


I'm Still Standing

by Rupzydaisy



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Family Feels, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Light Swearing, P B & Marshmallow sandwiches, Post-Apocalypse, Second Chances, Siblings, Some angst, Time Travel, a family weekend in the woods, they all deserve to be happy okay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2019-11-15 19:41:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 34,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18079712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rupzydaisy/pseuds/Rupzydaisy
Summary: You know what they say; stopping the apocalypse starts at home, especially if it’s your incredibly powerful sister who’s the one bringing around the end of the world. Just one small snag, if they’re going to be of any help to themselves they need to come together as a team and as a family.(Where Five jumps them through time and they land at the Academy. But only it’s a pit stop on the way back home.)





	1. I'm Still Standing

**Author's Note:**

> "Don’t you know I’m still standing better than I ever did,  
> Looking like a true survivor, feeling like a little kid." 
> 
> \- I’m Still Standing, Elton John

It was clear to see that they had left the crumbling theatre and imminent apocalypse in the future and found themselves a long forgotten sliver of the past. Far from the museum-like atmosphere of the modern day Academy, the past was home to seven children. It was the inevitable mess they would make as they lived their lives despite Grace's cleaning protocols and Sir Reginald's strict orders to restrict fun and games. Five’s mathematical proofs on scraps of paper were still hastily stuffed down the side of the sofa where he had left them, while Luther's books on the Voyager missions and Diego's third best knife set were sitting on the table. Somewhere on the upper floors were Allison's hidden magazines and Vanya’s own compositions scribbled on the back of scrap paper, along with Ben's hidden stash of junk food and Klaus eye watering shirts.  
  
Five turned in a neat circle, counting off his siblings with a grimace. “That went surprisingly well.”  
  
Diego, half caught between indignation and catching his breath back, reached out to whack his brother. Five sidestepped away as his attention was drawn to a piece of paper sticking out from underneath the sofa cushions. He pulled it out and glanced over them in curiosity, only to shove them back in again.  
  
Allison collapsed onto the sofa with trembling hands, wrung out by the turn of events. Clasping her hands together, she glanced around to watch the rest of her family breathe out, just a fraction of relief after barely escaping with their lives. Diego had begun to pace incessantly after pulling the doors shut and Klaus draped himself on the arm rest beside her with a loud sigh, fingers brushing over against her jacket collar and coming to rest on her shoulder. He gave a little squeeze of reassurance when she tipped her head back, and she offered up a tiny smile in return. Luther maneuvered himself between the sofa and armchairs, leaning down to deposit the unconscious Vanya, and Allison immediately slid over to pull her closer.  
  
She brushed the hair off her sister's face and checked her for harm with gentle fingers. Vanya had gotten off lightly, while the rest of them were at worse sporting a few fractures and at least some nasty bruises and cut lips from fighting the Handler’s agents. For a brief moment it had been just like old times, fighting together, Allison had missed being a part of a team, standing in her uniform and knowing that she was on the winning side. There was nothing like it after she'd left, no matter how many flashing lights and movie premieres she'd chased and rumoured her way into.  
  
Nevertheless, the Hargreaves were true to form and it didn't take long for them to begin talking over each other.  
  
Diego broke the tentative silence after pacing his way across the room. He turned to examine his reflection in the cabinet, prodding his cheek and forehead.  
  
“I thought we were...going to be younger?”  
  
“I need my bearings.” Five stuck his tongue out and popped out of the room in a ripple of blue twisting light.  
  
Klaus slid down the sofa and chuckled weakly in triumph. “How was that for potential?”  
  
Allison turned to answer but he was nodding to the empty space on the other side of him.  
  
“Yeah, I know, I know, there must be something else to it...”  
  
He carried on, ruminating to himself and she mouthed her dead brother's name. The surprise of it caught her again and the pit of her stomach dropped.  
  
Opposite her, Luther put his head in his hands and mumbled to himself, “She blew up the moon. We didn’t stop the apocalypse and it killed everyone. She was what dad brought us together-”  
  
Diego pushed away from the cabinets and stabbed a finger in the air. “Don't, just don't, Luther. Dad knew about the apocalypse. Dad _knew_ about Vanya. He locked her away, screwing her up as much as the rest of us. He's the reason she's like this now. He made all our lives miserable, and then he died and things are still shit.”  
  
“-I could see you, not like you are normally, but a little more..., oh I’m so proud of us!”  
  
“We. Didn't. Stop. The. World. Exploding! Did living on the moon make you delusional? Did you lose your fucking mind in zero gravity, like it just _floated_ away from you or something?”  
  
Klaus rolled his head back to the raised voices and blinked as Ben walked behind Luther, mirroring the exasperated look on Diego's face but lacking the glare in his eyes. Ben reached out to swipe at Luther's shoulder, and to his continual dismay only passed through, the incorporeal inhabiting the corporeal for a split second.  
  
“That's rough, buddy,” muttered Klaus in sympathy.  
  
He wished Luther had felt it, not just for Ben's sake, but because sometimes Luther really did need a giant wake up call. Instead of channeling his frustration into words on behalf of one who couldn't be heard, Klaus rolled his eyes and shrugged. Then he stood and began a search for alcohol, surviving the end of the world needed a toast.  
  
Luther cleared his throat loudly, “I'm saying, I don't think we should stay here.”  
  
His eyes darted around the structurally-sound Academy. “ _We_ could come back at any time. How do you think that’s going to go?”  
  
A ripple of blue and purple creased the air and was accompanied by a popping sound as Five appeared back in the room. He tossed the newspaper in his hand at Allison.  
  
“Found today's paper in Dad’s study. It's the day of the jewellery store break-in. Which means we'll be back by midday, which in half an hour.”  
  
“I remember that!” Klaus spun around, eyes bright, and found all eyes on him.  
  
He moved behind the bar and jerked in surprise when Five appeared to grab the cafetiere left behind. The sudden jolt reminded him of something and he quickly corrected himself.  
  
“No, wait. That was the submarine hostage situation. Never mind.” He grabbed a piece of cold toast off the breakfast tray and stuffed it into his mouth.  
  
Diego's eyes lit up, “I remember the submarine. That was my record, and it still stands!”  
  
“We need a plan before she wakes up. I don’t see you doing anything, Number _Two_ .”  
  
Luther jumped to his feet gesturing frantically to the door, ignoring how Diego bristled at the numbering and how Klaus and Five exchanged a look that screamed _Here we go again_ . The squeal of felt tip on paper made him pause his launch into an argument. He reluctantly stepped back to the sofa to read what Allison waved about on her notepad  
  
_We need to do better. For her._  
  
“And how do you suppose we go about doing that? Cutting off her hands?” Diego glared at his unconscious sister, half-lying on Allison's lap.  
  
He thought she looked too peaceful for all the havoc she had caused and his right hand drifted back to the handle of his thigh knife. The idea of travelling through time had set his teeth on edge right from the moment Five offered up the last minute pen and even after they'd landed in a sprawled heap he hadn't been able to shake off the twist in his gut. Losing Five all those years ago had been proof of that, and now they’d gone and thrown themselves into the same situation. That and the fact that Vanya was sleeping like a baby while the rest of them faced an uncertain future.  
  
Five snorted in disgust, and for a split second the lot of them froze because the sound was far too alike Sir Reginald.  
  
“Weren't you listening to me? The apocalypse happens either way. Vanya was the cause, is the cause, it leads to the same end every time. Harold Jenkins or not. Us coming together trying to stop it or not. At the theatre, at the academy...wherever.”  
  
Allison frowned and scrawled out another four words, underlining them to settle the matter. _More time with us._  
  
“I thought you were going to turn back time. Why aren't we like you?” Diego slumped down into the closest armchair, eyes scanning the upper balcony. “Not that I'm complaining. I like how I am now.”  
  
Five stared at him over the top of the counter and slowly drained his second cup of stone cold coffee. He returned it to the tray before jumping the short gap from behind the counter to crouch in front of his brother. His forehead was creased and his nose was inches away from Diego face, along with a finger that tapped repetitively on Diego's forehead.  
  
“Oh, wait. I must be confused. Yes, _you're_ the expert. Why weren’t you the one to just replace our consciousnesses in the timeline with aged-down versions of ourselves while also out jumping a fiery tidal wave of the apocalypse. It's not like it's hard.”  
  
Diego glared back at the young boy’s face. “I’m this close to thumping you.”  
  
“In your dreams. And I’ll remind you that I only look like this because I made an _error_ in my calculations.” Five threw him a smug grin before pivoting to face them all with a steely look in his eye. “I can get the same result for us, but it's going to take some working out.”  
  
“Uh huh, and I hate to say it but Luther's right, we have to leave. We can't explain ourselves if someone finds us here.” Diego switched track, standing up so that he was able to look down at Five and suppressed the urge to put him in a headlock. “And you can’t do your homework if you get caught by Dad when we come back.”  
  
“Roadtrip! Shotgun!” Klaus called from behind the counter, having pried open a locked cabinet and pressed his lips to a bottle of whiskey. He paused, whined, and then put the bottle back on the shelf. “Spoilsport.”  
  
Allison wrote with a grimace on her face, _I know somewhere._

 

* * *

 

 

Klaus reached the balcony first and tried to look through the netting in the window but the yellowed curtains but the coating of dust sitting on the glass prevented him. “You know, it's weird being here _before_ we've been here. Feels wrong.”

Diego clomped up the steps and elbowed him out of the way. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his lock picking tools. By the time the rest of them reached the front door, he had flung the door open with force. The movement threw dust into the air and he backed off coughing. Five brushed off his blazer and walked past the two of them loitering in the doorway. He began surveying his surroundings, rifling through the drawers and cabinets in the lounge. Inside, sheets covered the smaller pieces of furniture, hiding the chairs and tables under greying cloth. A thick cover of dust lay on top of everything. Sneezing loudly, Klaus ducked past Diego and headed upstairs, taking the steps two at a time.

Allison slowed as she reached the top of the steps and stared at the front door. The cabin was uninhabited, with overgrown vines creeping over wood, and had been that way for some time. She was right in her choice of hideout, with Harold Jenkins still in jail with years to go and his father buried six feet under, there was no one living in the log cabin in the middle of the woods. It had been the perfect place for him to take Vanya to experiment with her new found powers, and now it would be the perfect place for them to prepare to redo their own history.

“I’ll turn on the water and gas.” Diego looked sheepishly at her and stepped inside too.

“You don’t need to stay in here.” Luther caught up to her, and shifted Vanya higher in his arms.

Allison pressed her lips together and nodded at him, but remained standing there with her arms folded over her chest, watching her brothers fill up the space. Klaus bounded back down the stairs with his arms full of pillows, throwing one at her head which she caught and he moved to dump the rest by the door for later.

“When do you think she'll wake up?” Diego asked as he dusted off his hands and tested the light on the porch. It flickered on slowly and then glowed a hazy orange to match the sunset.

“I'm glad she hasn't yet.” Ben crossed his arms, “You're still unprepared. What's to stop her from doing it all again when she does?”

He pushed off the wall he was leaning on and peered over Luther's shoulder as he put Vanya down on the dust sheet covered sofa. Then he edged around them, as if the sound of his footsteps could wake her up and walked over to where Klaus was standing by the fireplace. Ben watched his brother lean against the wooden wall, enjoying the ability to stretch his arms and legs again after spending hours cramped in the middle back seat sandwiched between Luther and Five with his apocalyptic-causing sister lying on his knees. It hadn’t been an easy ride. Ben could second that easily having squashed himself into the footwell by Klaus’ feet.

“We ask her nicely to not blow up the moon. Again.” Klaus rolled out his shoulders out and they cracked loudly. “Also, Ben's wondering if we have any ideas.”

Allison jerked away when Diego came to rest his hand on her shoulder, breaking her gaze at the unstained rug on the other side of the room. She shivered despite his sympathetic look and turned the involuntary movement into a deliberate reaching for the notepad in her back pocket.

_We shouldn't be here when she wakes. We need to give her time. I have an idea._

 

* * *

 

Vanya awoke in the dark with a splitting headache and a dry mouth.

Her fingers ached and her heart thumped sluggishly as she blinked away the memory of the juddering music hall. But even with her eyes open she could still see her brothers hanging in the air, held up by silvery tendrils of power, her power, and she desperately tried to think of what happened next.

Vanya could just about make out a wooden ceiling above her and soft fabric crumpled underneath her. She felt an oncoming sneeze that she breathed away and slowly her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. Panic fluttered in her stomach when she couldn’t hear the sounds of the city; cars, horns, and the thrum of electricity. It was too quiet, and her heart thumped louder to eclipse the silence.

When she tipped her head to see where she was, her head pounded in protest but the shadows looked slightly familiar. It wasn’t until Vanya propped herself up and the world was vertical again that she realised why it looked familiar.

She was back in the cabin.

Her lungs burned and she sucked in a deep breath, feeling her heart thump louder in her chest and echo in her ears. Without her even willing it, a now recogniseable surge of power flooded her body. It danced through her veins and only gave her some of the reassurance that she needed. Vanya swung her legs off the sofa and something crunched under her shoe.

A piece of paper, with Allison's handwriting covering one full side.

_Vanya,_

_I forgive you for hurting me. I pushed you when you weren't ready to hear what I had to say, and you pushed back._

_I never should have tried to use my powers on you. It's my fault. I was wrong and I'm so sorry Vanya. I should have fought harder for you when we were younger, and I promise you I won't make that mistake ever again. You'll_ _always_ _be my sister._

_Your powers caused the apocalypse. The moon broke to pieces and hit the Earth. Five jumped us back in time to save us._

_We're outside, all of us. Including Ben. We're trying to make better choices. Trying to do better by each other. We want to help you._

_There's a sandwich in the fridge for you._

_Please talk to us._

_Allison x_

Vanya breathed out shakily and set the letter back down on the floor. She clambered up the back of the sofa, ignoring how the dust on the sheets left marks on her white blazer and trousers, and lifted up the edge of the net curtain, needing to see them with her own eyes.

Five sat on the floor with his back to the wooden balcony, scribbling on a notepad completely oblivious to the rest of the world. On the other side, Diego was setting up a hammock and Allison leant on the balcony at the far edge, looking out at the green treetops. Looking to her left, Vanya saw Klaus lying on the decking with his arms folded on his chest. She shifted closer, pressing her nose to the glass and saw Luther, who had crushed the breath out of her and locked her up, sat on the floor beside Five staring into space looking incredibly lost.

Her fingers twitched. It would have been so easy for her to crush the balcony, send them all crashing to the ground several feet below and pile on tons of dirt for good measure.

Well, almost all of them, even though Allison mentioned Ben, she couldn’t see him.

Vanya felt her heartbeat slow and the feeling of pure power ebbed away. She let the curtain drop and thought hard about what she could do, what she wanted to do, and finally decided on what she would do.

She headed into the kitchen, curling her hands into her sleeves.

Inside the fridge was a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich. Feeling her stomach rumble at the idea of having food soon, she lifted it out and eyed it in the refrigerator light, surprising herself when there was a fresh new well of pain that brimmed over old wounds. Her memory was not going to be silenced by her medication anymore, and neither were her actions.

It ached just to acknowledge it. Midnight snacks, letters from the heart, ‘ _Talk to us.’_

Vanya knew she didn't want to speak to any of them yet.

But deeper in the pit of her stomach, she knew that maybe she should speak to Allison. Allison who had smiled at her from the aisle while Vanya was playing her solo as first chair, who had come to warn her about Leonard, who had tried to reach out to her. Allison had still drawn her into a hug when they met after the news that their father had died, even after the book, and the expanse of the years that had separated them.  

_We're trying to make better choices. Trying to do better by each other. We want to help you._

Vanya shut the refrigerator and headed back to the sofa, flipping the light switch on her way and let the soft murmur of voices rise up from outside and slip under the closed door.

 

* * *

 

The next morning Vanya left the cabin and took the steps two at a time, feeling the urge to escape the indoors. She had spent the evening staring at the walls and the ceiling in turn, feeling more and more restless. It was a relief to open the back door and breathe in fresh air. The overnight rain had left everything damp and the ground squished underfoot as she walked away from the cabin and towards a break in the trees.

“Hey, are you alright?” Diego called as he jogged between the trees, coming to a halt in front of her with sweat beading up on his forehead and darkening his black jumper.

“What are you doing here?”

Vanya looked around, judging the distance from where they stood to the house, and at his knife holsters which were mostly empty. It didn’t fill her with confidence.

“There's not much to do here, and I hadn't had a morning run. Plus, Five was snoring.”

He shrugged but remained where he stood, eyeing her in a way that set her teeth on edge until Vanya realised he was angry with her. She shifted on the spot and her feet sunk into a soggy patch of brake, engulfing her good shoes and smearing onto the hems of her white trousers. The trees around her swayed closer as her uneasiness grew.

“I needed to get outside,” Vanya replied flatly.

Diego gave a jerky nod, and opened his mouth several times before actually getting his words out.

“I've didn't think you'd be here. I've been wondering what I'd say...When Luther put you in the basement I told him we needed proof, that you hurt Allison. I didn’t get why...You were always so...quiet, always around but-”

“-And never part of the team! You put me back in that prison, where I was made to think I was ordinary, drugged up, lied to, manipulated.”

She was shouting back without thinking. The coiled up feeling that had been building inside her chest since she’d woken up last night snapped. Vanya stretched out her arm and raised it shakily. A broken log from the other side of the clearing rose up into the air too. With a strangled scream, she hurled it through the air and it crashed against nearby tree.

To his credit, Diego didn't flinch as it splintered to pieces and showered over him, sticking to his sweaty face and damp shirt. But she did notice his fingers twitch, drifting towards the thigh holster he stored extra knives in. He stopped himself when he saw where she was looking and crossed his arms instead.

A pained look settled on his face as he threw her guilt in her face. “You destroyed our home. You killed Pogo. You k-k-killed Mom.”

Vanya twisted to look at him and tore a branch from the tree above him, showering him with a flurry of leaves. The sound of his stutter made her strangely satisfied and equally ashamed and she lashed back.

“When was the last time you called that place home? It never was for me. I never had that!”

She let out a scream of rage that was cut short when she felled a tree with a pull of her hands. The old wood creaked and the trunk snapped and hit the ground with a deafening sound.

There was a shout from the cabin behind them, but neither bothered to turn away. They were locked in a staring match. Diego glaring at her as she continued to drag her hands through the air, each time breaking a tree branch from within felling distance of him and letting it smash to the floor.

Vanya swallowed a breath after the third time and slightly lowered her arms when Diego stepped around the larger branches on the ground to look her squarely in the eye. He shook his head again with his jaw clenched tight before speaking to her without shouting as she expected.

“I've been angry too. Someone I cared about was killed. A...good friend. I really wanted to kill the one who did it, but it wasn't going to bring Patch back. I almost did. I could have, but I didn't, because I was holding onto the feeling that it would make a difference. I was fooling myself thinking I was doing it for her. I wasn't, I was doing it for me.”

He raised a hand and brushed it against his chest before dropping it back down awkwardly, as if there was a physical hole in his chest she might see and take advantage of.

“It still hurts.” Vanya backed off, grinding her teeth. “Everything still hurts.”

“Yeah? It still will.” The frown returned to his face and he sighed in defeat at her outstretched arms. “If you’re not willing to move on.”

There were heavy footsteps through the trees and Luther broke through the wet bushes behind Diego to stride forwards and stand between them. He took in her white irises and Diego’s arms clamped across his chest and finding relief in that they were both unharmed by each other.

“What happened here? We heard shouting.”

“Whatever.” Diego threw back at Vanya and took a few steps to the side to talk around Luther’s bulk. “Dad's dead. He manipulated us all, and no matter what you do it's not going to change that!”

“What's your point?” She threw her hands up in the air and the trees swayed dangerously above them. “Why come here? Why bother at all?”

Diego let out another frustrated groan, “I'm saying, we _understand_.”

He brushed past Luther and left her standing with red cheeks feeling even more angry than when she had left the cabin. Vanya twisted on the spot, caught between wanting to disappear into the cabin towards the house or head deeper into the open forest. The trees swayed inwards before snapping outwards. She shut her eyes and saplings were cut in half, their small branches fell like a shower of matchsticks.

“He's not wrong.” Luther told her while he brushed twigs off his ripped coat.

“Go away.”

“I wanted to say I'm sorry.” He held his hands up, a gesture of surrender and she hated him for it.

“Apology not accepted.”

She spent a few minutes catching her breath back and waited for him to leave, not willing to walk away. But he only shuffled from one foot to the other, before speaking again.

“I thought if you were in the...I thought you couldn't hurt anyone if you were locked away, but it just made it worse.”

She felt her fingers tremble again. It was the feeling of slipping loose from her own thoughts and her own wants, and she also knew how easily it could happened. Just like how she had raised her bow and the line of red spread across Allison’s neck. It made her feel sick to think it happened without her even thinking it.

“I know now that you didn’t mean to hurt Allison. But that, wasn't all was it? You killed Leonard. What happened?”

Her stomach turned again because the whole world had fallen away to just him, her, and her anger.

“He was trying to make me do things. Kept saying I had to do more with my powers. I couldn't...I didn't want to. Not after I-”

“You lashed out. Without the control you’ve never learnt,” said Luther softly as the realisation finally hit.

Vanya shook her head, unwilling to trust her voice and her brother who had tried to comfort her to before but had put her straight back into her childhood nightmares. Her throat closed up when she thought of the basement, and she breathed deep as she told herself she had destroyed the room completely and could never be stuck behind its four walls again.

“We’ve all had our share of disasters, still having them too.” He sighed heavily, “It wasn't easy for any of us. We all struggled with our training. ”

“When did you ever find it hard? No, I can't do it.”

Her voice wavered and she looked over his shoulder at the cabin. She stepped around him, half-tripping over the mess she had caused. When Luther moved to block her, thick branches snapped under his weight with loud cracks that made her flinch.

“I don't know how to control it. I feel...too much.”

“Listen, when Dad...saved my life after that last mission, I woke up screaming. I wasn't myself. I couldn't even look at myself in the mirror. I just kept thinking it was all wrong-”

Vanya found herself shouting again, unable to stop. “Everything is wrong! I wanted powers all my life, and now that I have them, everything is worse!”

“It doesn't have to be. Let us help you.”

“Why didn't you leave me there?” She stepped back again, moving towards the cabin and her shoes dug into the sawdust underneath.

“You know why!”

He shouted back into the empty clearing as Vanya ran back to the cabin but the sound was swallowed by the distance and the rain that had begun to fall again.  

 

* * *

 

Vanya jerked awake from her spot on the sofa and her mid-afternoon nap when she heard the crash. She tipped her head to see a mess on the floor where Klaus had knocked something over and was now standing there with his palms turned out to her in surrender, _Hello_ and _Goodbye._  

“Sorry, sorry. I'm trying to find something. _Anything._ ” Klaus called out to her in a raised whisper.

“I'm sober.” He added defensively as she sat up slowly, feeling her shirt stick to her skin from being worn for too many days. “Didn't have much chance to bring anything with me from the end of the world...But there's nothing here in this ghost house. No TV, not even a book.”

His hands drifted back to the top of the bookshelf, scrabbling around the highest shelf. “Who knew surviving the apocalypse would be so _boring_! Nice to see you're awake. How do you feel?”

Vanya winced at that. “I remember the performance. You came to stop me...you _thought_ you could stop me.”

The shards of the broken china ornament rattled on the floor beside Klaus’ bare feet and her eyes flashed white. He turned to look at her but he didn't back away. She let the pieces quiver for another long moment and then allowed them to settle.

“You didn’t stop me.”

“Yeah, not our finest hour.” Klaus hovered on the spot, mindful about where he stood with his bare feet. To her surprise he shuffled closer and crouched down to rest his arms on the side table. “Hey, so you have powers. Scary, incredible, world destroying powers, but you know...”

Vanya stared at him.

“I didn't mean that, you weren't...before. We all know that now, and _shit_ uh-” He waved his hands, unusually lost for words. “What I mean to say is I understand, knowing what it's like to do things. Impossible things.”

“I never knew. Allison made me forget, and when I found out I wasn’t thinking straight. Mom, I understand but Pogo knew too. Who does that, who keeps secrets like that?” She laughed to herself, and the sound was far too strained for either of them. “For years, I wished Dad wrote about me in his notes, and I guess he did. He just didn’t bother to train me, to help me.”

Klaus pressed his lips together in sympathy. “Whatever was written in the old man’s notebook is not your story. It's not got everything in it, has it?”

She shrugged her shoulders and settled back into the sofa cushions, remembering challenges and tests and wires, and a pen to draw an umbrella of her own onto her wrist. “I guess not.”

“I mean, I met God who was a cute girl riding a cute bicycle. Ben and I can now tag team which is next level stuff! Our _dearest_ Father couldn't have imagined that, could he? I saw him too - the ghost him. Which was a major bummer but I guess _he_ can rest in disappointment.”

He raised his eyes up to the ceiling with a dramatically mournful look before glancing back down at her and twitched his eyebrows. He waited for reaction from Vanya, but she only stared down at the broken shards around his feet.

“I don't want to talk about it anymore.”

“Okay,” said Klaus softly.

He gave her a thumbs up and rocked back onto his feet before heading to the front door. “Sure. Got it...But you know, if you do, I'm just outside. Literally! Sleeping on the balcony. I licked the blow up bed Five stole from the gas station so it's mine now.”

When the door shut behind him, Vanya tipped her head back against the sofa.

She remembered something a few minutes later and sighed, slowly heaving herself to her feet. Making her way across the room, she bent down to slide open a small cupboard under where the TV would come to sit in the future and pulled out a board game box she found the first time she had been there. Without a single word, Vanya opened the front door to place the box on the floor and immediately shut it again.

There was a sudden flurry of noise from outside, but she leant up against the door with one of her hands pressed up against the wood and the other over the lock.

 

* * *

 

Five had taken up residence in the master bedroom for the sole fact that the wall was painted in a light beige colour. It meant he could write all over it with the marker liberated from the bewildered cashier at the gas station they had stopped at on the drive to the cabin. Several things had gone missing that afternoon, most of them out of necessity, but there was a handful he had been pestered into liberating with a few well-timed jumps.

He rolled over on the floor to finish off one of his equations. He had wrapped it around the room twice and now only needed the last number to be rounded up to two decimal places. The skirting board wasn't an ideal place, but he'd done calculations in worse ones. At least here it was relatively quiet and he didn’t need to worry about hiding his work. Five kicked his leg out into the hallway to avoid a trapped nerve and his shoe hit something solid.

“Hey, watch it! I'm working on life-or-death quantum mathematics down here.”

When there was no reply, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and realised just who he had shouted at.

“Ah, Vanya.” Five said, scrunching his face into a grimace as he turned his head to look up at her. “I thought you were Klaus. He's been trying to beat me at that board game.”

“I heard last night.”

The bickering on the porch had kept her awake long into the night. When the raised voices got too much, she had pulled the curtains open, stretched out her hand and unthinkingly blown the porch light with a flick of her wrist. It had taken her another two hours to get back to sleep because she couldn’t stop her hands from shaking.

Vanya looked back at Five who had shifted to sit against the wall. He rubbed the feeling back into his elbows, and from where she stood he looked smaller. She had noticed that much before when he had broken into her apartment, when he sat hunched over his late night coffee. It was in his eyes, they just weren’t the same.

“-I know, I should be more...less of a griper. I never expected a second chance like this.”

Vanya hesitated, feeling for the silence in the house before she sat down on the bare floorboards next to him. “Can you tell me what happened to you after you left?”

“Survival after the apocalypse...was pretty much that. I had Delores to talk to for a couple of decades and then there was my recruitment as an assassin at The Commission. Major betrayal to come back to _your_ present day, all culminating in corporate sabotage. Long story short, I found out the Handler was helping you even though you didn't know it.”

He waved a hand at his sister to finish off his explanation, “Protect you, protect the end of the world. She didn't care that billions of people would die. Bitch.”

“And then?”

“She offered me a choice. I could just leave, live, oh and maybe get recruited again. Or I could die in the apocalypse.”

“Die along with everyone...”

Disbelief leaked into her voice, because Five had always been headstrong to the point of being obnoxious. It didn't sound like something he would have done, because it didn’t make sense. He’d already spent over forty years without the Hargreeves, that was a lifetime in itself. More than enough time to forget everything, to become someone else. And yet he had gone to the trouble of coming back.

“With my family. Trying to stop it.” Five corrected her in a heartbeat. “I wouldn't change my choice.”

She looked around the room, at the clusters of numbers and letters covering the walls. Patches of it were almost black and certain parts were entirely scribbled over. When she used to measure herself against her siblings, it was Five's dedication and sheer genius that pushed her to keep practising her violin. A little niggle used to tell her, _if he was still working then so can you._ Vanya always thought it used to come easy to him, but now she doubted it more.

“I'll paint it over before we go.” Five nodded at the three cans of white emulsion sitting in the corner.

She pressed her hands to her thighs and rested her chin on her knees. “What's your plan now?”

“I guess we both get to relive our childhoods again. You with us properly, and me, not in a desolate wasteland. It'll be _fun_?”

He sounded unconvinced by the word, but the face he pulled and the fact that he still wore his uniform and tie almost made her laugh.

“Fun?” Vanya repeated and shook her head. It sounded like an impossibility under Reginald Hargreeves’ roof where everything was timetabled and children were neither seen nor heard unless they were being pushed to their limits. “Did you get that from your numbers?”

He smirked back at her, knowing exactly what she felt. “No. But it can’t be any worse, not with what we know now. To tell you the truth. I don't remember much of what happened the first time round, it’s been a while.”

“Neither do I. And what I do, I wish I didn't.”

She pushed the thought away and gave into her curiosity, leaning into the wall's support. “What do you want to do first, when you get back? What would you have done if you had jumped back fine?”

Five hummed as he thought, “If I hadn't been lost for decades? Or if I had jumped back a few hours later and got grounded for leaving the dinner table without permission.”

“Either?”

After a long silence he replied, “I really don't know. I’d like to say I get to grow up better. You?”

Vanya sucked in a breath and scrambled to her feet. “I don’t know either.”

“See you at dinner?” Five asked, still seated as she passed through the door and wholly unsurprised that she was leaving after plucking at a raw nerve.

“Maybe.” She called back from down the landing, avoiding his old eyes.

 

* * *

 

It had been three days since they'd arrived and they'd settled into something of a routine. Even though Vanya allowed them inside to use the kitchen and the bathroom, for the most part the five of them stayed outside and spoke to each other, treating her like a wild animal trapped inside the house from the lack of not knowing what else to do. But Allison loitered more compared to the rest, hovering by the door, lingering in the kitchen when she brought over an extra plate of food for her. Each time she’d give a small smile, sometimes leaving a folded note underneath the plate for her.

_I think this is the longest we’ve all been together, maybe even in decades._

_Klaus drove Diego mad over the board game so Luther put it on top of the porch where neither of them can reach it._

_Come sit outside with us, Vanya._

Now, Klaus opened the front door and didn't breeze past her and up the stairs as he had done every other time. He stood there rocking back and forth on his heels, and then jumped to the left like he was avoiding something.

“I'm doing it.” He hissed before clearing his throat, “Listen, Ben and I have been talking, and he says he wants to speak to you.”

“Okay?” Vanya clasped her hands together behind her back, fingers linking each other.

“We've figured out a way to...never mind, just watch.”

Klaus turned to the space beside him and stretched out his hands, shook them out and then pressed them together. He clapped and outstretched them, then repeated it over and over again. His hands passed through the air, but she couldn’t laugh because there was a rare, determined look fixed on his face.

“What-?”

A silhouette formed before the window and in the next moment Vanya was looking at her dead brother who was looking back at her with half a smile. Ben had clamped a hand around Klaus’ wrist like an anchor and raised his other to wave at her with a genuine smile.

“Hi Vanya.”

“Ben!” She lurched forward and then wavered, holding herself back. “Ben.”

He was older than she last remembered him, and dressed in black from head to toe, hoodie, jacket, and jeans instead of the old blazer and tie in her memories.

“You're here.”

“I've always been around.” Ben turned to Klaus and knocked his brother's shoulder with his own. “Five thinks he can pull me through to young me. _If you have your own thoughts, then you count as a consciousness.”_

“I don't know what to say.”

Vanya frowned, releasing a breath she didn't know she'd been holding. It had been one thing to see Five again, but they'd held a funeral for Ben. She hadn’t left snacks out for him because he was gone. She wrapped her arms around herself and told him, “I've missed you,” and her heart broke a little bit.

The lightshade gently swung above them. Ben noted the circle of light rocking back and forth but didn’t back away. There wasn’t any reason for him to.

“I've missed you too. Klaus read me the book.”

Vanya scowled, “The book. It's not like that was the biggest betrayal the Hargreeves children suffered.”

His face twisted. “No, it's not Vanya. But I've been watching you all since the funeral. None of you have been acting like family. Although when we did ever?”

“It's been too long.”

“Too hard? Too impossible?” Ben scoffed, “No, no way. You've come too far for that.”

She swallowed thickly, unsure of what to say.

“Do better, Vanya. If I get the chance, that's what I'm going to do. Klaus and I have looked after each other, I haven't been able to do as much as I've wanted to.”

Klaus shot him a wry grin, “You can't fix everything. I can't be contained.”

Ben looked at her and when he spoke again there was a desperation in his voice that she felt deeply. “Vanya, just don't walk away from us now. Not when we've got a chance to do things better.”

Before she could open her mouth to reply, Ben let go of Klaus’ wrist and vanished taking his last words with him and she turned to sprint up the stairs with tears leaking down her face.

 

* * *

 

Vanya peered over the side of the bannister when she heard them come inside to use the kitchen for lunch. She walked down the stairs slowly, braving herself for the five, six, pairs of eyes that inevitably turned to watch her. The hum of conversation felt through the walls and floorboards fell silent in her presence. She held her nerve and brushed her hair behind her ears as she sat down between Klaus and Diego.

Allison turned her notepad back and flipped it over. Her pen hovered over the paper for a moment before she began a new message: _You’ve decided?_

Vanya sucked in a deep breath and announced what they'd all been waiting for. “I can’t take back what I’ve done, and you can’t either. But if we’re drawing a line...I’m willing to try...”

“Well that’s good, because I’ve solved the equations needed to transport our consciousness back three more years and displace our old ones. We would have memory enough to not make the same mistakes.” Five cleared his throat and looked at his siblings in turn, “In theory-”

“In theory?” Diego threw his hands up. “No, we can’t screw this up again, we can’t do maybe’s.”

“I agree. We need to be certain.” Luther nodded and looked to Five for reassurance.  

“The math is sound.” Five raised his voice over them, hammering home his point. “But it doesn’t take into account outlying variables.”

Six faces stared back at him blankly.

“We have to commit to this _properly_. I mean, if we’re just going to repeat the past then there’s no point. We can’t fall into the same habits as before, we need to be there for each other because that’s the only way this will work.”

“No leaving the house when it gets hard.” Luther added, meeting Diego and Five’s guilty looks.

There were nods from around the table

“No ducking out.” Klaus agreed, laying his hand on his chest and looked at the empty chair beside him. “Ben says no ignoring each other if something’s hard to hear.”  

“We don’t leave each other behind.” Vanya said as she blinked away her tears, placing her hands on the table and Allison smiled back at her with her eyes welling too.

Klaus clapped his hands, “So how are we doing this? Do I need to swear on a Bible, and is the wording legally binding, like _til death do us part, in sickness and in health_. Spit shakes...pinky promises?”

He waggled his hand over the table and Allison rolled her eyes at his unbridled enthusiasm. “Go team? Come on, all in.”

“No,” Five scoffed as he stood and reached out his paint flecked hands. “Just stand in a circle around the table and hold hands like before. And Ben, if you can hear me, hang onto Klaus.”

They joined hands and formed a circle as the air around them drew close and heavy, holding tightly onto each other as the present, past, and future rippled between them. With a loud pop they disappeared out of the Jenkins’ cabin in the woods and left behind a wavering blue light that melted away as quickly as it appeared.


	2. Back with A Bang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not easy being sixteen again...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been ages since the first chapter went up, life got in the way, and then I got distracted by other fics and then the procrastination set in   
> I saw Rocketman like two weeks ago and 'I’m still standing' has not left my brain which has kinda given me a kick to finish this bit off   
> A whole bunch of you left kudos and subscribed and bookmarked...so thank you thank you thank you and there’s more to follow once I straighten out my messy notes
> 
>  
> 
> "Anytime my life flashes in front of me  
> I see a child there, as if on a screen  
> Standing in the shadows, flickering   
> For a moment I know what it means"
> 
> \- The Secret of the Stars, The Milk Carton Kids

 

“Did we do it?” Luther asked with his eyes scrunched shut. 

Five had opened his as soon as his feet hit the floor and looked around. Everything was as it had been. 

The warm air inside the Academy was stale, and the carpet underneath their feet was clean. Above them the chandelier creaked violently with the force of the tear in time-space and the lingering blustering winds that were neither here nor there. They all let go of each others’ hands and shuffled back into a loose circle with stunned faces and heavy limbs. Time travel was one thing, but taking one breath in the future and another in the past when you were younger was another thing entirely. 

“Yeah, it’s worked.” 

Luther was unsteady on his feet as he looked back at Five who had somehow grown to be the same height. Then the crazy realisation hit. He had lost inches. His eyes widened in amazement as he looked down at his teenage self. He ran his hands over his face, feeling the longer hair smoothed down, and pushed up one of his oversized coat sleeves to see the pale, very human arm under the ripped green fabric. 

When he looked back up, he noticed that Five looked older. He blinked to confirm that his younger brother was now more gangly and less chin, and his shirt sleeves were halfway up his forearms. 

“You’re...different too.” 

The smirk on Five’s face wavered for a second and he asked, “Did it work?”

But when Luther nodded, a wider, self-assured grin returned. “Good. No way was I going to be a child again. This is better, not my  _ actual _ age, but it’ll do.” 

He rolled his last words around his mouth and surveyed his brothers and sisters. The rest of them were in various states of disarray. Diego shuffled from one foot to the other, nervously looking down at his black shoes which were threatening to slip off. Vanya was hunched over with her hands on her off-white trousers breathing deeply while Allison had clamped her hands over her ears in a bid to stop the ringing in them. 

There was a small whine and they all turned to see that Klaus had paled. When he lifted one arm with his other hand and let go, it dropped down by his side like stuffed, weighted pillow.

“I can’t feel my arm!”  

“Time travel’s a kicker.” Five tutted, feeling the buzz inside his skull begin to subside. “The nausea, tinnitus and heavy limbs should subside in about half an hour. The prickling in your toes, maybe about a day. If you get giant purple blotches on your legs, or a green tongue, do let me know, that can be fatal if not checked out.” 

“Purple blotches?” Diego repeated, lifting a foot too high and watching as the shoe slipped off completely. 

Vanya shuffled forwards to lean on a chair, finally able to breathe properly again. “Green tongue?” 

“I ran all the calculations, thrice. We’re here and now because this was the best time to make changes to the timeline. We stand a better chance now, at sixteen.” Five’s voice dropped lower, “Also, we don’t have to relive puberty. Once was enough. And we can blame any weirdness on lingering hormones.”

He paused to consider it, looking around at his siblings, and then corrected himself. “For the most part.”  

“I’m eternally grateful? Also I’m still older.” Klaus jibed as he turned in a circle. He reached his one good hand under his open shirt to clasp the dog tags around his neck. He quickly slipped it off and put them into his pocket, before coming to a halt with wide eyes at the figure standing behind him. “Ben? Ben!” 

“Yeah?” 

Ben looked back him nervously, feeling the pressure of a human body and a hundred thousand nerve endings suddenly became a reality. Life had sunk into him and returned him to his youth. His hair was short and brushed out to the side, and he held out his hands to see them with his own eyes. He jumped on the spot, lightly, just to see gravity take hold and bring his bones back to the ground, feeling the weight of his clothes and the sensation of air across his skin making his clammy hands feel colder.  

“You can see me?” 

“Yes! Yes!” 

Klaus immediately enveloped Ben in a hug, knocking him backwards. Suddenly, there was a cacophony of noise and the loose cluster of his siblings piled close to swamp the boy in a black hoodie. Multiple hands wrapped around his shoulders and arms and squeezed tightly. Allison cheered, revelling at her intact vocal chords and Ben responded with a whoop of his own. Diego clung tighter and then they all staggered four steps sideways with his enthusiasm. 

“You're alive!” 

Vanya wriggled her hand into the mass of limbs to take hold of Ben’s jacket. Five lurched forwards when Klaus’ legs buckled, and watched as Vanya’s frown smoothed out when she was unable to hide her delight at seeing her long-dead brother. 

“You’re crushing me! My head hurts!  _ Everything  _ hurts.” Ben cried out when Luther grabbed hold of him around the waist and swung him out of the huddle, turning his yelp into a laugh. 

“Welcome to the world of the living!” Klaus barked out, jumping up to slap him on the shoulder. 

A shout came from the top of the stairs behind them and the seven children froze in a tangle of limbs. 

“What is this noise?” 

Silence descended in the room as Reginald Hargreaves made his way down the staircase. Ben slipped back down to the floor and they all let go off each other and backed away. Out of a long forgotten habit, they formed a line with their hands folded behind them. Allison stood closest to the banister and faced squarely ahead, but the others gave in to the temptation and turned to see the man in the flesh. 

He was well-dressed as usual, in a purple suit and matching tie. His monocle was held in place by his frown and the creases in his face deepened as he slowly moved towards them, never rushing despite his clear distaste at the ruckus. He hated the children breaking the rules, but took a certain measure of pride in confronting them about it, as though the latest scolding and further restriction would somehow finally convince them to fall in line like the perfect little superheroes he wanted them to be. 

It was clear that this time would be like all other times. 

When Vanya looked up at him, she felt a twist in her stomach. The locked room in the basement still existed in the past she now inhabited. Her heart thundered against her ribs and a scratch of coldness ran from the back of her neck across her scalp. Every nerve was screaming, and unlike before where it was of pure joy to have survived the jump she had put her faith in, or for seeing her dead brother alive again, this time it was rarely-touched anger and hurt and fear muddled together. 

An age old flight or fight response commanded her to do something, but then she felt Ben’s arm press up against hers and the thrumming in her bones settled down to a dull roar. Then the clarity she had never been allowed to possess which made itself known and warmth rushed back to her fingers and toes; the man who ordered her to be put inside the cell could easily do it again, only he didn't know that she could use her power. 

Hargreaves had reached the foot of the stairs and was frowning at Luther’s stunned expression. He crossed the short distance to stand in front of the children in the centre of the room, and his next words snapped out like a warning shot. 

“I asked a question. Number Four, care to explain why I could hear you from my study.”

But it wasn't a question. It was an order and Klaus, for all his years of rebellion, still managed to look hesitant and more wide-eyed than he had in years. 

“And Number Five, I see you’ve managed to return to us. Are you the reason for these festivities?”

Five clenched his jaw and stood straighter to reply, “I’ve been the acorn, and now it’s time for the oak tree.”

Hargreaves sighed heavily, disappointment clear, and turned away from him. “Still a jumped up little boy as ever. Shame, I thought that a good sharp shock of failure would have been a lesson learnt.” 

Five's eyes were as hard as ever and his jaw tipped up.

The old man lip curled in distaste, as he looked out into the hallway. “Your stupidity is hardly worth celebrating. Nevertheless, I will draw up a new training plan to pick up where you’ve left off. You’ve missed several years worth of lessons and have a considerable amount of catching up to do.”

At that, Five bristled like a cat dumped in snow, struggling to keep hold of his temper that hadn't been tested by the old man opposite him for decades. For all of his planning to return them all to a point in the timeline where they could finally avert the fiery end of the world and not die pointless and painful deaths, he hadn't put much thought into what he would do when standing in front of the man who had destroyed them and planted the seeds for the apocalypse. Now that he was here, his fingers were itching for something to slam into the old man's face. 

“We'll be quieter,” Diego offered, filling the uncomfortable silence that had descended.  

He did his best to stand as straight as Five under the glare that had swung around to him, but he lacked the inches he had only minutes ago. He shuffled closer to knock his foot against Five's as a distraction. They hadn't come so far to lose their second chance so quickly.

“Sure thing. Quiet like mice, won't we, Diego?” Five added, then he clamped his jaw tighter and fixed his eyes on the far wall. 

There were shelves lined with gleaming awards given to them after successful missions from thankful groups, mayors, and businessmen whose fortunes they helped protect. He remembered them all, and in some cases he had been there before he had been there. There was one gold frame news clipping from a mission Hargreaves had sent them on at the Helm Building. He had been there before, thirty years earlier at its opening, only to assassinate the janitor who would have gone on to steal a certain diamond from the vault three days from the Golden Wrangler hit it. 

Hargreaves’ cold eyes settled on Diego with his full attention. It was something the professor rarely did to any of them. “What was that?”

The seven children fell back into the uncomfortable silence under his glare. The seconds dragged and time seemed to slow. Immediately, Diego felt like he'd missed a step on the stairs and was in free fall. “Diego, Sir? Uh, my n-n-name.”

Klaus let out an awkward laugh from further down the line and blurted out, “What’s the problem?”

When the ripple of discomfort wavered down the row, Klaus suddenly realised he had said something he shouldn't have. He tensed up on the spot as Reginald turned back to face him with a withering look.

“Oops,” he muttered under his breath.  

“The problem, is that you must not allow distractions to get in the way of your training. And if you have the energy to make this much noise, then you shall all undertake extra training this evening after supper.” 

With that final remark, he walked back to his study, leaving them behind feeling a lot smaller and a lot more stunned than they expected. 

 

* * *

 

 

“I hate him.” Diego declared abruptly and without taking another breath continued to curse the old man. “I fucking hate him. I  _ hate  _ him.”

Allison crossed her arms and exhaled. “Old bastard.” 

“I know and share your pain.” Klaus drew his hands across his chest and lay them above his heart with a look of mock sorrow. 

“What a homecoming.” Five slumped against the back of the sofa before rolling his eyes. “I'm kinda struggling to remember why I wanted to come back.” 

Klaus grimaced back at him, “Yeah, I'm suddenly not feeling this.”

“I am!” Ben whispered loudly and spun on the spot, knocking his arms into Luther, the closest chair, and the coffee table in quick succession. “This is great!”

His sheer delight was infectious. Klaus barked out another laugh and stepped back to give him more space and mirrored Allison's smile. Behind Ben, Vanya steadied the coffee table before it tipped over. She brushed back her hair, dragging it out to feel the full length of it. 

“This is  _ really  _ weird,” she said quietly. 

“But it's good!” Ben added, turning back to pull her into a hug and lifting her up a few inches off the floor. 

She froze but then realised how long it had been since she'd hugged him, and leaned into it. “You're really here.” 

“I am.” His grin stretched wider than ever. 

Allison sat down on the bottom step and shook out the stiffness from her feet. “Five, you really brought us all back.” 

“It just better be worth it. It's all we've got now.” He watched her face crumple and she froze, hands flat on her thighs. “Sorry.”

“But is, isn't it?”

He patted her shoulder sympathetically before a shadow crossed his face and he looked up at the sound of more footsteps on the stairs. They all turned again, shifting to brace themselves for another lecture but relaxed when they saw it was Grace. She drifted serenely as ever down the staircase in a bright green dress and full skirt, and Diego raced up the stairs to meet her halfway.

“It's weird. We've all changed so much.” Luther said, noting the oversized sleeves on Diego’s well-mended jumper swinging away as he took the stairs two at a time. 

Five shot him a look of disbelief. 

“You know what I mean. How we went from this, to how we ended up.”

“Okay, spaceboy,” Five twisted on the spot and stuck out his finger. “I'm going to tell you one thing, and you've just got to remember this one thing today.”

Luther blinked. 

Five took advantage of the silence, stepping up to glare at him with all the disdain he could muster up. “And if you need me to be dead specific, it’s this. Don't fight with Diego all the time. And don't feel like you  _ have  _ to be the one with the plan.”

“Yeah, some of us have good ideas.” Klaus said. He backed off from their scattered line to climb onto the sofa cushions, hanging off it with his feet hooked over the backrest. “Once in a while...okay, like really  _ rarely  _ but I feel like I’ve done my fair share recently.” 

“Give it a try.” Five tacked on, “Maybe you won't turn out to be an asshole again.”

Luther frowned and was about to argue back, but there was a resigned sort of look in Five's eyes that reminded him of their brief chat in the car. Five had given him the same advice then too, and he had taken it literally and followed Klaus’ example, which had been a bad idea that could have entered the Hall of Fame for Bad Ideas. But this was a second chance of a completely different nature. 

He nodded and sat down on the sofa beside Klaus to stare at the floor with his arms crossed without another word.  

Allison slowly got to her feet again and dragged over the bar stool over to sit. Her shoes dangled inches off the ground, and the missing space made her take her seat more carefully. Her hand reached up to touch her bare throat and she coughed to clear it. There was no more pain, but the ghost of the slash that had opened her throat and robbed her of her voice lingered. 

“So, how are we going to do this?” Allison asked, “Because did you see his face? He was angry that we were together, in the same room, talking to each other.” 

Klaus slid of the sofa and circled her and then slipped by the back of the bar. He slapped his hands on the counter top, mimicking the last time he had stood there, a good foot and a half taller than he now was. There had been something off, since he’d landed in the past, and he was struggling to put his finger on it. It was like a weight had been lifted. His foot knocked against the cabinet below the bar and a dull chink of a half-filled bottle of whisky echoed quietly. 

“Oh!” He whispered to himself, “I get it.”

Allison turned to him, waiting for him to explain, but he stared at her blankly until he hastily tacked on, “I mean...I don't think we should be alone around dear old Reggie.” 

“Seconded. One of us might slip again.” Luther glared over at Five, who had the good grace to look mildly apologetic. 

Nods travelled around the circle as they all came to an easy agreement. They fell back into an unfamiliar silence and listened to the odd noises and creaks the house gave off. There was a window open on the first floor and the curtains flapped in the gentle breeze. Soft footsteps, Pogo’s, came from a floor further above. They watched Diego and Grace walk back down the stairs and cross the floor to the lobby. A few moments later the front door shut behind them and the remaining children were left alone again. 

“It’s so quiet.” Vanya said, looking around the upper balcony.

Allison scoffed as she rubbed her eyes, “It always was. We weren’t supposed to do anything like this.” 

The minutes ticked on but finally Vanya's burning questions cut loose from her tongue, “What should I do? You always trained together. He tested you all. But what about me?”

She sucked in a deep breath and leaned her hands on the back of the sofa. “I had to stay upstairs, and take my meds. I’m going to  _ have  _ to stay away.”

There was an uneasy shift as they were all pulled out from their own thoughts and Luther surprised her by being the first to answer. “You're going to need training. We meant it before, when we said we’re going to help you.”

“We could take it turns?” Allison suggested, twisting her fingers together before shrugging her shoulders. “To teach you what we know about controlling our powers.” 

Five nodded, quickly getting on board with the plan. “I used to jump to your room, I can jump the others in or out.”

“Or up to the roof?” Luther got to his feet and began to slowly pace. “It’s quiet up there, and there’s enough space. Allison’s right, we’ll take it in turns, keep it hidden, and you’ll learn what you need to.”

“And Diego can start.” Klaus offered up, rapping his fingers on the table before clambering over the top and sliding gracefully to the floor beside Vanya to give her a squeeze on the shoulder.

“Diego?” Five wondered, struggling to follow this new tangent in the developing plan. 

“Yeah. He's not here, so he doesn't get a say.” Klaus grinned at him. 

Five snapped his fingers, catching on. “Right!” 

“Plus you could learn how to aim better.” Allison said, tactfully not meeting Vanya's eyes when the girl winced behind her. 

“Good point.” Luther paused to wave his hand, “We can all help you to control it. Klaus and Allison can help you with drills. Me and Five can build some targets for you to practise on...and it could be  _ fun. _ ” 

He held his breath, waiting for his plan to be shot down, but Allison and Klaus exchanged a look and an  _ alright _ sort of nod, and Five glanced down at his hands to count out something unspoken. 

“Okay?” They nodded back at him, and Luther felt slightly uneasy at how easily they had agreed. 

“And me?” Ben asked, pausing in running his hands over the red velvet armchair pushed up against the wall. 

Luther jerked a little at his voice. “Uh, we can work out all the details over the next few days. But Diego is a good start. At least that way, you can hit something without causing damage to everything else.”

Vanya eventually nodded, “Okay, I'll do it.”

Klaus clapped his hands and sat back down next to Allison, hooking his feet over the armrest. “Good plan team. And no one tell Daddy  _ dearest  _ that we're from the future and think he sucks. Simple, right?” 

“Yeah, simple,” echoed Luther. 

He sat down on the other end of the sofa, thoughts spinning faster than a centrifuge as certain facts slotted into place and he worked to shove them away until he could turn them over in his own time. Being young was his hardest challenge yet, especially now the golden shine of being Number One had been irreparably tarnished. 

“No sweat. We've got this in the bag, kiddos.” Klaus folded his hands under his head and stared up at the chandelier, jiggling his foot incessantly. 

“Your confidence is  _ inspiring _ .” Five shook his head and perched on the armrest by Klaus’ feet. 

Ben grinned indulgently, “Hey, can you get those three on the second shelf. I wanted them ages ago but Klaus wouldn't flip the pages for me.”

“I flipped him something else.” Klaus declared back proudly.  

“I've got so much catching up to do. So many missed moments.” Ben added wistfully when he turned to Luther and pointed out a few more books out of reach. 

While the whole group cringed at the meaning of his words, Luther quickly stood up to hand them to him. But the stillness evaporated when Klaus winced in pain as the first book smacked his knees. A yelp quickly followed when the second book landed on his chest with a large thump. Ben’s grin grew wider as he hefted up the third hardback, and Klaus scrabbled to put the sofa between him and the new Umbrella Academy catapult machine. 

Five stared at the antics and then turned back to Luther, “So...er. What now?” 

“We probably should split up. He's already suspicious. And we should behave like perfect Academy children for a while.” 

“I want to see my old room!” Klaus added from behind the sofa, raising both hands in surrender. 

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” Allison slid back her chair and walked off towards the stairs only to paused and throw a final comment back to her siblings. “Oh, and remember, he's got cameras everywhere.”

“Joy of joys.” Klaus rolled his eyes, “As if being a child superhero wasn't enough.”

Ben hesitated, feeling uneasy as they all began to traipse to the stairs, “I might stay down here. Or go outside. Or...I’m not sure yet.” He turned and faced the bookshelf and ran his hands over different covers. 

“See you assholes later.” Five rolled off the sofa and jumped out of the room in one fluid movement, accompanied by a flash of blue and white light.  

Vanya’s eyes flicked up to the top of the stairs and her fingers twitched. “Yeah, I'm going to go check my room too.”

“Okay, I guess I’ll be here.” Ben replied, turning back to the bookshelf.  He remained still, with his hands jammed in his pockets, and stood facing the wall as the last of his siblings disappeared.

* * *

 

 

Klaus tromped up the stairs and made a beeline for his own room. Over the years he had cultivated it, but at this particular time and place it was like a halfway house. Nowhere particular, but somewhere between the half-tortured child he was and the disaster-adult he grew up to become.

There were splashes of colour on the walls, fabrics in all sorts of colours that he collected, scavenged and stolen from their few  _ excursions _ out of the house. And the scribbles on the wall, straight from the mouth of ghosts. Laments and curses alike. These were the things that haunted him in his young years. Like sponges, they soaked up the heavy guilt he felt whenever a ghost materialised and screamed endlessly about their life.  

Klaus spun around on the spot, feeling haunted by his immediate surroundings. There were a hundred memories lurking in this room. He shook on the spot from head to toe and then turned to face the door. 

Facing the hallway he took three steps back and one sideways. A sharp pivot and a step to the left had him standing on a creaking floorboard that sunk inwards on the back end. He crouched down, fingers skimming the wood and then yanked it up. Inside was the stash of the teenage Klaus. He pulled out the plastic bag and subconsciously wanted to brush the dust of years off him. 

“Alright. Now it’s time to say  _ adios _ to you.”

He held up the bag to his face and shook it, before heading straight to the bathroom at the end of the corridor. There he upended the entire plastic bag over the toilet and then flushed the contents.

“Come on, Klaus.” 

With a sigh, he leaned up against the door and stared at his empty hands, wondering how long it would take for them to start shaking. It was too morbid a thought, and his hand reached for his bare throat only for him to realise that he had taken off Dave's dog tags. 

“Safekeeping. Right.” 

The words were bitter. He hated the idea of having to pocket them, but if keeping them out of sight would mean they weren't confiscated then he could accept it. Grudgingly. Being back inside the house was suddenly turning out to be a challenge of self preservation. 

If he could keep it together. 

A big if.

An overstated one too. 

The numbing feeling in his arms had slowly returned and he let them swing back down to his sides.

“Better than the shakes, I guess.”

Memory was a funny old thing. It crept up, unexpected and unwelcome. He had long since resigned himself to nightmares of the dead, screaming and screeching visions of the murdered. Ghosts haunted him, that was his power, his talent. Although he never expected to see his father again, uncremated and ever-disapproving. Ghosts turned daydreams into nightmares, but Hargreaves had the power of turning his life into a living hell. After spending less than an hour back under the same roof as the old man, Klaus half expected to be crawling his way to the next small, round, easy swallow of escape. 

Klaus slipped a hand into his pocket and took out Dave’s dog tags, holding them tightly as he watched the water swirl away. 

_ Ha!  _ Now Ben wouldn't have an excuse to punch him in the face. 

Because that had hurt. 

He returned the dog tags back to where they belonged around his neck and tucked away from view. 

Klaus turned to walk back downstairs and only made it past his bedroom door before he groaned and slapped his hands to his cheeks. In a single, fluid twist, he turned back and made his way to the middle of the hallway. There was a panel opposite the bedrooms, just underneath the staircase leading to the attic and he stopped in front of and hunched down. 

It was a challenge to pry it open with his fingernails until there was enough room to slip his hand between the floorboard and the small opening and he grazed his arm. With another groan, he yanked the panel back a little further and stuck his hand back in, rooting around blindly before pulling out one pair of luminous yellow socks, two t-shirts with swear words emblazoned on them, and a handful of Grace's old jewellery he had scavenged, again for safekeeping, of sorts.

Klaus sat down to pull on the socks, and then shook out the t-shirts, congratulating himself on his own good fashion sense.

“Fuck yes.” He sighed and rolled them back up again, “Unfortunately, I must lock you away from a villainous fiend. He'd have you burned. I could never bear the indignity, darlings.” 

He considered the handful of necklaces and decided having a cache of pawnable goods may become useful over the next few months and nestled them on top of the shirts and found what he was looking before snatching his hand back to avoid another scrape. 

“You, you're joining your friends to go swimming with the fishes.” Klaus told the second plastic bag of pills. 

They swirled down the toilet and he flushed twice for good measure. He breathed out shakily, feeling lighter with relief. Satisfaction hit a second later and he fist-pumped the air before backing out of the bathroom once again. 

But when his foot hit the top step on the staircase, Klaus remembered his third, and best hidden hidey-hole, he almost screamed with exasperation. 

“I hate myself. I really do.” He clawed at the air with clenched fingers, “She's going to run me over with her cute little tricycle and use my hair for handlebar tassels! So much for second chances.”

He dragged himself back to the final hiding spot, the back up for the back up, and fished out the final plastic baggie and his most prized possession, a small newspaper clipping. He lifted out to look on the woman's face and ignored the moustache his younger self had drawn on a slightly younger Hargreaves. He spent a long moment memorising the face and then folded it back neatly as gently as possible.  

“Okay, that’s all of them. A real fresh start.” Klaus congratulated himself, knowing that immediate temptation was out of the house.

“Huh, nice socks,” said Five, leaning over the side of the banister.

Klaus jumped in shock. He reached out to swot him, but Five stuck out his tongue and watched his brother lean back against the wall and exhale loudly.

“Thanks. Don't creep up on me or I'll push you down the stairs. 

“Yeah, I'd like to see you try,” snorted Five. 

“I’m tidying up...while I feel like it.”

“You know, it won't be the same as before. It's your body at sixteen, not thirty something and absolutely trashed.”

“ _ Really.” _ Klaus quirked his eyebrow. 

“You don't have to be weird about it. I'm just saying, I don't miss the aches and pains of being old. We might as well enjoy it.”

“Enjoy it. What do you know about enjoying things. You think this whole grump routine works for you.” He suddenly beamed up at Five, “I'm going to help you bro...to get in touch with your inner child again. You’ve just got to feel it.”

“I told you not to be weird about it.” 

Klaus hopped from one foot to the other and pulled off both his socks before brandishing them at Five. “Here. Put these on.”

“What? No!” 

“Yes. There’s only room for one miserable bastard in this house, and I’m not going to let it be you. I'm going to teach you to have more fun. Now...do as you’re told and put them on.”

Five eyed the socks and his mouth twisted into what Klaus recognised as a half-smile, but one his brother would have passed off as his disgust if it was ever mentioned. “Only if you come back downstairs once you’ve got a new pair on. It’s dinner time and I don’t want to be the only one at the table when the old man gets there.”

“Fine.” 

Five took the neon socks and slipped them into his pocket. Then he disappeared in ripple of light, leaving Klaus to blink away the stars in his eyes. 

“Cool.”

* * *

 

 

“Mom, wait.” He had to force himself not to run to her. 

Diego left the rest of them by the sofas to carry on talking and blocked her on the middle landing. She came to a graceful halt with her hands lightly clasped together. He stood in front of her expectant face, and was suddenly struck by a numb tongue. She was there, and whole and undamaged by falling debris and fire. It was everything he had wished for ever since the Academy had been brought to the ground by his vengeful sister. 

Grace’s smile was as reassuring as ever, and a lump rose in his throat making him unsure of what to say until he settled for a short, “Hi.” 

“Would you like to help me move the new paintings upstairs, Diego?” 

Diego blinked, feeling grief, loss, and joy all wrapped up a single moment. She always knew what to say, and she never pushed him away. It was strange to think that a robot would invite company but he never assumed it was anything else. She did everything he assumed a mother would do. Even down to the smiles she gave and the way her eyes lit up whenever he accomplished something new. 

“Yes.” 

He glanced back at the rest of his siblings arranged around the room below like they didn’t fit together and gave a small smile. He turned back to her and the words fell out of his mouth before he even realised he had thought them. 

“I love you, mom.” 

Grace smile seemed frozen. 

Diego suddenly became unsure. She was enigmatic at times, appearing to withdraw into her own thoughts only to emerge from a standby mode. As a machine, Grace was built to learn. Her routines were fixed and her core programming was to ensure that the house ran efficiently and that the children performed to the best of their capabilities under her care. 

But Diego knew better then, and more now. She did have her preferences, her own habits and tendencies built up over time.

And although he’d never tell the others, he assumed he was her favourite son, more than just wanting it to be true. Purely because Five never showed much inclination, Luther only helped when specifically asked, and Klaus caused more mess and hindrance than help. Ben, perhaps was another soft spot for Grace too. He had spent long days in her care after missions went wrong for him and the wounds cleaving his chest fought against healing. 

Yet now, she still remained silent and he wavered, feeling the reversal of years. Hargreaves was a constant, a solid wall of disapproval and disinterest, but his mom was different.

_ Where was she now, at what point did her learning tip from written to mutated code. How much was Grace, Grace now? _

“I love you too, Diego.” Her smile lifted up at the corners, and the skin around her eyes crinkled too. “Now, let’s get the paintings inside before it rains.” 

* * *

 

 

Allison headed up the stairs with shaky legs and walked down the corridor, listening to the creaks in the floorboards. When she got halfway down the corridor, she reached out a hand to touch the coloured-in diagrams of children fighting, blocking, and gouging each others eyes out. Without any hesitation she ripped them off one by one as she walked by and continued to head to the her room. 

With each fistful, she muttered under her breath, cursing and promising never to make the pictures come to life. To never have to stand in front of Vanya again and have to stop her. The shredded papers drifted to the floor slowly, leaving a mess behind for Pogo or Grace to clear up by morning. She could hear Luther's footsteps slow and steady behind her, and Klaus had already darted into his bedroom but she didn't break her stride. 

It was only at the threshold hat she paused and then pushed the door open slowly. When she had come back for the funeral, her bedroom had been like a time capsule with only remnants left behind from her childhood. The posters on the wall and her stash of magazines remained, but her clothes, make up, and all her trinkets were things she was unwilling to leave behind. She had taken what she could carry and had made a few trips back to pick up the rest once she had rumoured her way into a new apartment and life. 

Allison hovered inside the doorway, taking in the lived-in mess of her old life and found she couldn't catch her breath. The walls were too small and the smell of her favourite perfume throughout her teens was too sickly. It made her gag. Her hands scrambled back to shut the door and then her feet were flying, taking her back down the corridor and up another flight of stairs. 

She moved quickly and with a burgeoning buzzing filling up her mind. A few steps more and she threw open an unpainted door halfway down a cobwebbed hallway, wincing as it creaked loudly on its unoiled hinges. But slowing wasn't an option. Here, the house was unloved and neglected. The floors were unswept, the spiders free to spin from beam to beam and dust accumulated on dust. It was a more truthful statement to the state of the place. Hargreaves only cared for his image as a benevolent caretaker of talented children, and Grace was only programmed to tidy the areas that were lived in. Pogo never ventured to the upper floors either, leaving it to rot.

After reaching the largest room in the attic and clambering over an old, broken door to get to the window, Allison hefted the cracked pane open and climbed out to sit on the ledge. The sun had begun to set and orange light reflected off the houses lined along the streets below. Her eyes watered from the dust floating in the cooling air. It whipped her hair into her eyes and she brushed her fingers across her cheeks as she looked out and down onto the city. 

Without looking down, she rolled up her trousers and then swung herself across the ledge, edging closer to the flat portion of the roof and the largely abandoned garden that had been left to run wild. At one point, Hargreaves had allowed them up there, but not anymore. The door to it was kept locked and there was an unspoken expectation that they were not to bother themselves with these hidden places.  _ Don't look, don't ask for answers to questions that shouldn't be spoken, curiosity and human error were not what you were born for. _

Allison stretched her shorter arms and climbed up into the tree. She pulled herself from branch to branch until she was nestled in the rough crook of the trunk and surrounded by a cocoon of greenery. Then, and only then, did she wipe the wetness from her cheeks, over and over again until it felt like her tears wouldn't stop and all the water inside her would have to be wrung out. 

“Claire!”

The word fell softly out her mouth between the sobs and her heart clenched tightly, taking her breath away. 

“Claire! Claire…”

Allison blinked until her tears slid down her face, and then drew in a shaky breath, not quite believing that her heart was still beating. 

“I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, baby. Claire, I'm so sorry.” 

Claire was lost to her. She pulled her hands up to her face, drowning in the agony of the permanent separation. Minutes passed and another wave of anguish followed as she realised that the apocalypse had stripped everything off life. Five had wandered the desolate wasteland for years and years with only the upper half of a plastic mannequin for company. Everything had burned, everyone was lost. 

She could scarcely pull together her thoughts to understand that Claire was gone. Her stomach twisted violently, dropping as though she was on the world's worst roller coaster and maybe for a moment her heart stopped too. There was only one noise on the roof, maybe from the vents, a shuddering rattle. 

All she wanted to take the corners of the sky together and screw up everything to start over again. Time was, when things were as simple as that. It only took a sentence or two to remake the world, a simple persuasive push in the right direction. But eventually she had grown up and people became larger, their problems bigger, and relationships messier. Her younger self couldn’t imagine what marriage was like, how much work it took to make things right. By the time she had realised, it was too late. 

Allison gulped,  realising the strange sounds were her, from struggling to breathe. Now, every time she closed her eyes, she could see Claire. Her small hands, her bright smile.  _ Oh that smile could make any day better.  _

And she had realised downstairs, that she knew that every time she would catch sight of herself in the mirror, she'd wonder what Claire would look like at this age. Allison wished she could take back her words to Vanya,  _ Do you know what it feels like? _

It’s a cruel irony because it actually hurt more than dying and she doesn't know what to do with it. She had been stabbed before, broken bones on missions, and burnt in a raging fire. All of which paled to giving birth to Claire and realising that nothing else in the entire world mattered anymore. 

A laugh erupted from her lips, letting in the salty tears. 

“I heard- I heard a-” She choked on the words and jammed her hands over her face. Her powers were useless. Claire  _ couldn't _ exist. It wouldn't be real, it wouldn't be right. 

Allison slid backwards full of horror until her head hit the trunk and let her tears drip down her face.  

 

* * *

Luther climbed up the stairs after Klaus and Allison. He exchanged a weak smile with her when a yelp came from further down the corridor. She stepped into her room with a shake of her head, while he turned to close the door of his room behind him. 

Immediately, he flopped down on his bed and rolled over with a giant exhale. Above him, the model spaceships and planets twirled slowly in their ever constant orbits. The smell of paints and glue wafted over from their open pots on the desk. He reached up to cram a pillow under his head and struggled to decide on how he felt about being back in his younger, fully human body. He stretched out his hands in front of his face and felt relief wash over him again. 

Then there was guilt; guilt for feeling as if it could be this easy just to wipe away their mistakes, guilt for looking at himself and thinking that with this kind of second chance he could fix everything. His guilt crawled down further into his bones when he remembered the way Five had looked to him for a plan, just like old times. 

Luther knew he was inside a house where it was expected for him to lead without question and without wavering. Hargreaves wanted him to outstrip the others in fighting and learning. But it had been so long since...everything. They barely knew each other anymore. Five, Klaus, Allison, Vanya and Diego had all left, and Ben hadn’t had any choice in the matter. He had been left behind as its single inhabitant, the last of the Umbrella Academy children, under the misguided belief that he had stuck to the mission. In truth, it had been a lonely place, and the moon had been lonelier. 

His hand reached out automatically to the bedside table, and he set the turntable spinning with a click of the button. He rolled off the bed, crouching down to see the records underneath. Thumbing through them, he quickly recognised a few old ones that had been worn to the point of unusable in the future, and a few others that had disappeared, probably sold off by Klaus, or accidentally broken. 

Luther pulled out an old favourite and slipped it straight out of the paper to drop it onto the record player. There was a crackle through the headphones plugged in and the song played on, revolving around on the black turntable in a way that wiped his mind clear of all the other spinning thoughts. 

“ _ There a starman waiting in the sky. He told us not to blow it cause he knows it’s all worthwhile, he told me... _ ”

As he listened, the light outside turned darker and eventually heard the others heading down to dinner time. Luther sifted through his settled thoughts and turned over the heaviest one; being Number One again. It meant having everyone depend on him, and having to live up the title. It also meant not doing it for the sake of competing or because Hargreaves told him he should be first, but trying to do it for himself. 

His stomach rumbled loudly, making him pull the pillow over his face. There hadn’t been much food in the lodge and lunch had been replaced with their time jump. Now he had to face dinner, under Hargreaves’ watchful eye and the oppressive silence he hadn’t missed. And table manners. He hadn’t needed those for a while. 

There was only one good thing about it all. 

It would be a full table, because Ben would be there...and Vanya. 

He scrambled up to his feet and with the intention to head downstairs, only to jerk back when someone walked into the room. 

“You coming?” Klaus asked awkwardly, tugging at his blazer sleeves and collar alternatively. 

“Sure,” replied Luther. “Give me a second to change.”

 

* * *

Ben watched Klaus walk up the stairs and for a split second, he considered running after him. It was irrational. An entirely mad panic that sent a wicked shiver down his spine. 

Because he knew he wouldn’t disappear when Klaus reached the top of the stairs, but he still held his breath when his brother vanished from sight completely expecting that he would do the exact same thing. 

The panic compounded as the others left to disappear into their own rooms, around the house he hadn’t lived in since he was breathing, and then bled out, inside.

Ben shut his eyes, filled himself in darkness until his breathing levelled out and then stretched out a hand to rest his fingers lightly on the edge of the bookshelf. He sucked in a deep breath and slowly opened them again, just to prove to himself that it was all real. 

Everything remained in place, including himself. He turned around, eyes searching for someone to be in the room, maybe Klaus peering through the banister upstairs. But there was no one. He was alone. 

Time seemed to slow down and he stared at the empty sofa.

The panic receded and was replaced by a gut-churning thrill as possibilities exploded in his mind. All the things he’d been wishing for, everything he’d ever missed out on, was all possible again. He gripped the wooden shelf and noticed the gaps that he had caused from chucking books at Klaus. 

A little thought niggled at him and Ben moved around the sofa to collect his former ammunition, replacing them back where they belonged. Another something he hadn’t been able to do. Everything was new again. 

“What do I do now?” 

He felt like he was on a roundabout, and someone had just spun him until all he could see were blurs of colour streaking past. Speed wasn’t the issue anymore, he had lungs to breathe with and a beating heart. There was the force apart from gravity holding him down; the Umbrella Academy was both a home and a cage. 

Ben walked out of the living room as fast as he could, trainers squeaking on the floor. Everything was exactly the same. He cut through to the far side of the house, shoving the metal door open with all of his strength. The hinges creaked and gave way, crashing into the wall behind with a tremendous slam. 

Outside, the cooler air hit him and felt good against his flushed face. He sucked in another deep breath and turned to the right, to face the open space in the courtyard where his statue used to stand and let a yell rip out of his throat, raw, painful, and free. 

* * *

 

 

_ Baby steps, or something like that,  _ she told herself, feeling more grounded than she’d ever been.

Vanya sat on her bed in the dark and let her hands curl around the neck of the violin but she didn’t raise it to her chin. The bow rested on her knees and she let it balance there, tipping from side to side gently. She scratched at her uniform collar and loosened the top button, figuring that she could straighten herself up before getting to the dinner table. 

There was a slam from somewhere down below and her head snapped to the open window. It was closely followed by a scream and she dropped the violin onto her bed and raced to the window to see what it was. Ben was standing in the courtyard below and she could make out his bent neck and clenched fists. She looked around the square, but he stood alone. 

Vanya shuffled on the spot and glanced back at the violin on the bed, but it didn’t take long at all to make up her mind. She hurried downstairs and a few minutes later was opening the back door. A sliver of golden light leaked out onto the grey stones in the courtyard. She squinted into the darkness and found Ben’s silhouette hunched on the side wall facing out at the empty space, just as still as he had been when she had looked out from her bedroom window. 

“Hey, Ben.” When he didn’t move or register that she had spoken, Vanya stepped out and shut the door behind her.

“I bet dinner’s almost ready. Wow, it’s weird to say that. Everything is just...weird. Ben?” 

His voice was quiet when he spoke, “I came out here because...I realised I could.” 

Vanya stayed silent as she sat down on the wall beside him, slowly realising what he was looking at. Or rather what he wasn’t looking at. 

“I didn’t  _ have  _ to follow Klaus. I can go wherever I want. I’m  _ alive  _ now because Five hauled my ghost self back into my old body, and I can do everything I’ve wanted to do since I died. Everything.”

“Oh, Ben.” Vanya leaned up against him and he reached over for her hand. 

“Pancakes. Books. The sea.” He paused and raised a hand to his chest. “I can feel my own heart, and my stomach really hurts from that time travel stuff.”

“My hands are tingling still.” Vanya shook her head, “Welcome back to the world. It sucks, but we’re here.” 

They fell into silence and the sky darkened, turning the cobblestones navy. They sat in silence for a long time, listening to the cars driving past on the street behind the Academy, and the whistle of the wind as it wrapped itself around the corners of the town house. Vanya was left to her own thoughts again, and her stomach did backflips because Ben was right there with her. He stiffened after a while. When he spoke, his voice was still low and bitterness slunk into it.  

“May the darkness in you find peace in the light.” 

“What?” 

“Those were his words. A bit too late, to realise it, don’t you think. Do you ever think he felt guilty?” 

Vanya cast her thoughts back through the few memories she had and felt she could trust. There weren’t many of them, and most had been lost to the fog of time. She didn’t want to dredge up the bitterness again, not after knowing how much it would hurt her.. 

“I- don’t know.” 

“Klaus said that Hargreaves told him something momentous needed to happen to bring us all back together. And the old man thought his  _ funeral  _ would do it. After all those years, he still didn’t  _ get it _ .”

Vanya followed his punch-drunk stare and had to pull her blazer around her tighter when she shivered. “Oh. Do you...are you scared it might happen again?” 

He was quiet for so long Vanya wasn't sure if he was going to answer, and when he did, it only made her heart sink. “It was really bad, wasn't it.”

“I'm sorry, Ben.” Vanya whispered back. Her voice shook a little from the colder and another unwelcome memory, one she could never leave behind her. 

He shook his head and leaned back against the rough wall, trying to forget the image of his memorialised teenage self. The statue had gone up a month after the funeral. He had hovered behind Klaus on the day, unwilling to approach the carving of his own face. It was an awful reminder to be forever clad in the school uniform, and it was worse to see how easily the blood stains on it had been erased. 

Ben twisted to poke her with his elbow, “So...I'll guess I’ll try not to do it again.” 

Vanya’s face twisted up in confusion and then settled again, leaving behind only a small frown when he laughed at her. 

“Promise?”

“Promise,” he repeated. “Why did you ask? About if I was scared?”

“Because…” 

“Because you think it might happen to you.” Ben stretched out his legs to get the feeling back into them and smiled at her with a bit of levity, “I get it. But now you’ve got to think about it in a different way. Like...you know how it happened, so you know what not to do.”

She stared back at him in disbelief, feeling the horror and panic rise up in her throat again. “You think it's that easy? To just  _ not  _ bring about the apocalypse?”

“Eh, probably not. But I'll give it a go if you will.”

He laughed again, and this time she couldn’t help herself when a small, nervous giggle escaped. It had been too long since she’d heard it. “You’ve gone mad.” 

“It’s all this being alive that’s done it.” Ben heaved out a sigh, “Come on I’m hungry, and if you think the first thing I’m going to eat since being dead is the soup course, you’re the mad one. Where did you keep the marshmallows?” 


	3. Breaking Bad Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A week can be a long time. A week with your siblings might just be hell.  
> Five takes (selfish) desperate measures to keep the peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Now every line upon my face  
> Puts me back into my place  
> Whenever I start acting like a child  
> I guess we'll never be the same  
> As who we were just yesterday"  
> -Youth and Love, Jack Savoretti (feat MIKA)

Five watched Ben lay down on the carpet, stretching out his aching legs and wincing with each movement. “If I have to run, _ever_ again, I'll, I'll...explode.”  

He mimed tentacles emerging from his chest and smashing into everything. His knuckles hit the floor when he splayed out his arms again, utterly exhausted. When no one responded, he added, “Guys, I'm being serious.”

Allison snorted as she flopped down onto the floor beside him. “You’re just saying that because you were last.” 

“Diego...move your legs!” Klaus pushed at him to get space on the couch, but Diego kicked back and he gave up, sliding onto the floor too. “I hate you.”

“I hate you more. Why did you eat the last of the toast this morning?” Diego kicked again, this time his boot connected with Klaus’ shoulder. 

“You snooze you lose.” Klaus reached over to tug one of Ben’s shoes off and then lobbed it across the room. “And _you_ ...you ate all the waffles. _My_ toaster waffles. You actually took them off my plate. Who does that?” 

Five fought the urge to get up from the soft armchair, despite knowing where the conversation was going. The days were crawling. A week had passed and somehow nothing had settled into place. They were kept apart, training individually or in their rooms and only saw each other for group sessions or mealtimes. There, Hargreeves’ beady eyes watched them and their whispers could only travel from one to the other when they were absolutely sure they couldn’t be overheard. 

It had been harder than expected, knowing the freedom that he’d had lost. Even under the thumb of The Controller, he had never been this restricted. Sure, he had been on a leash, but when you could jump to another decade or millennia, it didn't feel so bad. He knew he only had to work his time out. Here, he was trapped back in the same box he had torn out of after only thirteen years, which was not the best track record.   

Five had forgotten how much of their lives had been dictated by rules and schedules. He hated how the strict routine clamped down on their ability to move around the house unimpeded. Reading Vanya's book every so often in the apocalyptic wasteland hadn't meant he'd forgotten it, but the years made things hazy and Dolores had made things bearable. He could see how their moods worsened over the week; Diego turned snappier and Klaus fell quieter for longer stretches. 

Each morning, across the corridor, Five always hears Klaus rapping out a rhythm on the wall between his and Ben’s room. Ben replies with a quickly scribbled note tucked into a book passed over at breakfast, only to be traded back at lunch or dinner. They keep up their silent, secret conversations, buoyed up by discreet nods and head tilts or furrowed eyebrows. It’s a language he never really saw before, and he wasn’t sure he could decipher the odd words, never having been close enough to them. 

It was the same for the rest of them. Luther’s scowls mirrored Allison’s whenever Hargreeves picked at their faults during group training. His betrayal was more raw, like an open weeping wound, scratched until bleeding with each new mediocre scrap of praise the old man threw at him. Allison, on the other hand, had put on her uniform like a costume and gave the performance of a lifetime by never showing the hatred she felt for Hargreeves' in his presence. 

At Klaus’ prodding, he had taken to jumping into Vanya’s room in the evenings before Pogo turned the lights out, just to check up on her and bring her messages Allison folded up into tiny squares and shoved into his pockets. She was grateful for it, not being forgotten; playing her violin from morning to night was something both familiar and distant to her. They could all hear her practising her pieces, tricky rhythms repeating over and over until she stumbled no more and her fingers moved like flowing water. 

It was evening now, and the six of them had just finished a gruelling post-dinner group training session. Hargreeves had dismissed them before leaving to meet with the King of the Sahara. The six of them reluctantly traipsed downstairs, feeling every accumulated bruise and sprain from the past few days. The sheen of youth had truly worn off. Even in training, old muscle memory was lacking. In Luther's case it involved completely new muscles, and along with lacking his previous height, he had taken to overcompensating whenever the chance to lead presented himself. 

But they were all making silly mistakes from forgetting simple things. He and Diego were ahead of the others, but their reflexes were slower and their limbs halted in the wrong places to land good hits. He had gotten used to his thirteen-year-old body, and recent growth spurt had added three years and a good few inches to his limbs. Allison still had some stunt training and was able to keep up for the most part, but Klaus was always agitated, and distracted when he wasn't. Hargreeves had taken it upon himself to apply further discipline, making him run laps until his legs turned to jelly which he endured with various muttering about _'the war'_.  

Five stared at them as the bickering began yet again, feeling less of the familial bond and more barbed annoyance. _This is what we do. It starts off small and spirals out of control._

“I need coffee, real coffee.” He finally groaned out loud as he watched his siblings teeter on the edge of another squabble. 

Their fights kept getting worse too. _They_ had gotten worse, falling back into bad habits in such a short space of time. Diego and Luther's squabbles had gotten bloody, neither of them capable of pulling their punches as their insecurities had slinked back in. 

Five made up his mind quickly, not wanting to witness yet another slapping and pinching session that would lead to split lips and bruised kidneys. “Yeah, I’m going.”

“Going where?” Vanya asked as she walked in and put her violin case down on the counter, the only time he had seen her today apart from breakfast. 

Five levelled a glare at the room, surprised she hadn’t found it obvious. “Coffee. Outside. Away from all of you.”

It was like a surge of electricity had zapped around the room. 

Ben rolled over and sat up, “I want to come. I want waffles.” 

“No. No way.” Five shook his head and marched off towards the door, “The whole reason of going out is that none of you are there.” 

“Help me up! And I need my shoe back.” He turned his head and threw a pitiful look. 

Klaus high-fived Ben’s outstretched hand and helped him to his feet with a groan. “Alright!” 

From the other side of the room, Luther chucked Ben's shoe back at him and only narrowly missing his head. Once it was back on, he and Klaus both rushed for the door, getting wedged in the hallway along with Diego. 

Luther shrugged and jogged after them, intent on not being left behind with a, “Why not?” 

“I guess.” Allison rolled her eyes and looked over at her sister, “Coming Vanya?” 

Vanya’s hands hovered over her violin case but then she seemed to think better of it and stepped away. “Yeah, okay.”

Allison's smile turned into a look of surprise when Vanya raced past her in a burst of confidence, leaving her to sprint in order to catch up. 

 

* * *

 

 

“See ya at Griddy’s, losers!” Klaus yelled while jumping over the iron gates and sprinted off down the sidewalk after Five. 

He had managed to keep his lead, with his blazer flapping away and his frantically swinging arms. He had never been the fastest, but he didn’t need to be. First place was always a jump away, and the rules were to use whatever means possible. 

On the doorstep, Vanya shared a look with her sister and rolled her eyes before taking off after him and the others. With less-than-minimal shoving, they chased the others down the street. Every dint in the pavement was a familiar one, and they overtook each other on corners, slipping off the kerb and onto the road in a gaggle. A car horn blared loudly and then was joined by another ear deafening honk, and then the teenagers were gone, turning down the next street and out of sight. 

Ben fell behind quicker than he’d liked and had to pause to catch his breath. Between the puffing and shaking out his legs, he grumbled away, cursing Hargreeves, Five, and Klaus in turn. The insides of his chest roiled with the heart-pounding strain, not from other dimensional limbs, but from being out of practise. Death was painless, physically at least. Living was harder, with its aches and pains, and a tiredness he couldn’t shake off. 

“Oh, come on.” He told himself and lifted his feet again to jog, then sprint to catch up.  

Further up, Allison jaywalked across the street at breakneck speed to avoid waiting at the crossing and Vanya yanked on Five’s blazer in a bid to get ahead. The leading pack only slowed down when Diego hit his palms on Griddy's glass door and claimed victory by leaving the imprint of his sweaty palms behind. Klaus was a close second, taking great care to slam himself into Diego’s back as he skidded to a halt. 

“No fair, I saw you cross the road. Almost getting run over doesn’t count.” Klaus said as he peeled himself of Diego’s shoulder and thumped him. 

“You were about to jump. I saw it.” Alison pointed a finger at Five who had slowed to a brisk walk and deigned to ignore her completely. 

“I hate you all.” Five snapped back and shoved them aside to step through the doorway first, breathing in the smell of fresh coffee and feeling whole again. It was his one constant in every time, or liminal space acquisitioned by the Temporal Commission. 

“Huh, why didn’t I think of that,” said Klaus with a hint of approval. 

Looking around, Griddy’s hadn’t changed one bit. It was the sort of establishment that could weather any kind of trend. Between now and the future, it had stuck to its diner red paint and leather furnished booths. It only looked a little less run down, like the paint was fresher and the floor cleaner. Five felt he could appreciate it better closer to the counter, where the waitress could take his order. It was like a homecoming, in an odd way. 

“It’s exactly. The same.” Diego hissed at Five, taking in the semi-circle countertop. 

“It’s a diner. They _all_ look alike.” Five hissed back in confusion. “Stop loitering, someone will take you for a ne'er do well.” 

Diego blinked back at him, but Ben sniggered all the way to the counter. The group split up, walking in and breathing in the sugar infused air before shuffling off. Luther and Vanya both began to walk over to the side with the view to snag a booth but then paused as they realised that the other was walking in the exact same direction. He threw her an awkward smile which she returned it and slid onto the squeaky red seat, while he moved over to sit down opposite. The others left them to it and spread out along the counter, hauling themselves up onto the hard, red stools. 

“How’s it going?” Luther asked after a prolonged silence in which she had looked at everything in the immediate vicinity apart from him. “Is your room the same as it was? Mine is.” 

Vanya blinked back at him and replied, “Yeah.” 

“Do you like your room?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine.” 

“Is it...a lot different to your apartment?” 

“Not that much. I had more stuff there, I decorated it a bit. Had plants, rugs.” 

“Right, yeah.” Luther coughed to clear his throat. He ducked his head down, thinking on how his bedroom only held soured memories of a prison that everyone aside from him had managed to escape. “It’s really different from the moon. My room’s different. The house is different.” 

“Yeah?” 

“There wasn’t day and night up there. No mealtimes and training. Not in the same way. I had an alarm and daily tasks, but I could do whatever I wanted up there.” 

“Like what?” 

Vanya squeezed one hand over the other on the tabletop. She slid back into the booth to lean up against the window, feeling the cool glass against her shoulder through the thin cardigan. It was heading to be the longest conversation they had ever had, and it wasn’t awful.

“Well, I could put on a spacesuit and watch the sun rise over Earth all three times.” Luther ducked his head again, feeling like he was babbling. “Hargreeves would have thought it was a waste of time. I almost included photos in my first report but then figured he wouldn’t care, so didn’t. But I guess it wouldn’t have mattered, he never read any of them.” 

“I would have liked to see them.” Vanya said, stretching out her fingers to brush at the spilled sugar on the table. 

“I’ve been about a way to help you train.” He said after a little while, pleased that they were having a conversation that didn’t involve screaming or shouting or furniture rattling three feet above the ground. 

“Yeah?” She leaned forward a little, the small lines on her forehead creasing up as she paid him full attention. 

“When I was learning to control my strength, right at the start, I started with the small things.” He reached over and pushed the half-full sugar shaker towards here. “So here.”

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Vanya tipped it from side to side so that the grains on the rim plinked onto the table. 

He gestured vaguely towards her face and twitched his finger.  “Move it. With your- you know.” 

“With my brain?” She raised an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“Yeah. Your powers.” 

“It’s more with sound, and how I’m feeling,” she corrected.   

Vanya replaced the shaker on the table and tried to ignore the prickling feeling of Luther’s eyes watching her while trying to reach around for the bubbling feeling. It was becoming all too easy to tap into, especially since she had been spitting out the tablets that Pogo gave her after mealtimes. The heavy blanket of dullness she had become accustomed to had been lifted and now her emotions flared up and fell like waves on the ocean or leaves rustling in the wind. Sleepless nights and the feeling of fear, real fear, had become part of her new reality. And gut lurching nervousness plagued her, but along with the terrible came other feelings, lighter ones that made her heart swell uncomfortably, yet also in a nice sort of way. 

“It’s something you’ll need to practise.” Luther reminded. 

She bristled at the unhelpful comment and with a twitch of her fingers sent the shaker across the table. The grating sound of metal on metal turned the head of an old man reading the newspaper from two booths down, but he only tutted under his breath. 

Luther picked it up and deposited it back in her side of the table. “Again, but try not launching it at my face.”

Vanya flexed her fingers out and levelled them again in front of the sugar shaker.  

“That’s going to be really hard.” She said in complete honesty and set to work again. 

 

* * *

 

 

Up at the counter, Ben asked the familiar-looking blonde waitress with the bright red lipstick at the counter for a stack of waffles. He hadn’t needed to think about it, it was one of the things he missed most about being alive. In fact, just being there with the rest of them had seriously made the awful day of training and enforced silence somewhat better. 

She placed a coffee mug and filled it up with fresh hot coffee, “Sure thing, hon. And the rest of you?” 

“Waffles too,” said Klaus eagerly. 

“Coffee. Black. And keep them coming.” Five ordered immediately, his fingers drumming a tattoo on the countertop in pure anticipation. Pogo and Grace, under Hargreeves’ enlightened instructions had removed all stimulants from the house unrelated to their training and kept the remaining supplies for guests and dignitaries under lock and key. 

“Doughnuts, two double plates.” Diego said, prodding at his growling stomach. “And an extra-large chocolate milkshake, extra cream and sprinkles.”

Allison briefly eyed up the display on the wall behind the waitress’ beehive before deciding. “Two strawberry milkshakes and two plates of mini doughnuts, please.” She looked back at Vanya and Luther talking quietly at the table, and quickly changed her mind. “Actually, make that three of each.” 

“Okay kids, just take a seat and I’ll bring them over.” 

They filed off towards the booth but Ben paused and turned back to add, “Extra syrup too, please.”

“Such polite kids!” The waitress muttered to herself, bustling about to plate up their orders.

“They’re little shits, each and every one of them.” Five commented darkly from his seat at the counter as she walked past, filling up his cup for a second time and savouring the taste of the fresh brew. 

The waitress stumbled at his words, double taking at the fact that they had been spoken by a teenager. Then with wide eyes, she continued to plate up the other orders, taking care to walk quickly past his seat each time she absolutely had to. 

 

* * *

 

 

After snagging the next booth over from Allison, Luther and Vanya, Klaus and Ben pulled their plates closer and drowned their hot waffles in syrup. 

"What are you going to do, about, _you know_?" Ben whispered in between bites, taking care not to be overheard. 

"I'm not sure."

"Have you seen-"

"Fuck, Ben. I'm seeing them all." His dark eyes swept across the entire diner, pausing at odd moments. "But I can _make_ them stop screaming at me."

"Alright, alright." 

Ben fell back into silence, chewing away until he had cleared half of his plate. Although he tried to ignore it, he could see Klaus' eyes flicking up at thin air. It was unnerving not being able to see other ghosts, but his brother had taken it into his stride and was pushing back at their presence. 

Klaus just picked at his food, dunking the waffles into the syrup until they disintegrated and then nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm still thinking about what I'm going to do."

"Have you tried having a conversation?"

Klaus grinned and bits of waffles hung out of his mouth. "I should, shouldn't I?"

"You could." Ben said tactfully, not wanting to push it. 

A loud bang rattled plates behind him and both of them turned back to see Diego gripped the table edge with a contorted expression on his face. He coughed twice and Allison leaned away from him. Even Five had turned around from the counter to throw a mortified glare at him. Another loud cough and a thump from Allison had him swallowing the mouthful and reaching for the next plate of doughnuts with an unapologetic shrug. 

“Sorry.” Vanya muttered under her breath, just loud enough for them to hear. 

"Yeah, I could chat to the wee ghosties," Klaus said as he turned back to Ben. "Or... I can let Diego cark it and let him do the talking."

Ben stabbed another mouthful of syrupy waffle on his fork and raised it up like a toast. "Sounds like a good plan bro." 

 

* * *

 

 

The sugar shaker lifted up an inch from the table and hovered precariously. 

"Okay, so gently, gently," encouraged Allison. 

"Any time today." Five turned away from the table and waved his empty coffee cup. He had wandered over after the fourth cup, but was now lamenting the distance between himself and the fresh pot on the counter. 

Luther elbowed him in the leg, "Shut up, she's concentrating."

Vanya rolled her eyes and focused solely on the metal container. A single sound penetrated her mind, a low chime, one that the shaker made when she tapped her fingernails against it. The noise resonated in her, right down to her teeth and she pushed it back outwards into the air and onto the metal. 

The shaker lifted higher and she held it there for a full ten seconds before lowering it back down. With a quick sweep of her fingers, she sent it sliding over towards Five with a small but triumphant grin. 

"Nice work!" Ben said from behind Luther's head, kneeling up to watch over the top of the booths. 

Beside him, Klaus winked. "Look at you, you're a real champ."

"It wasn't even for that long." She slid down in her seat and let her fringe flop over her eyes. 

"Oh no, I didn't mean you." Klaus looked over at Diego who had just finished his milkshake and was leaning forwards and grimacing. "That is actually an accomplishment."

"I have no regrets." Diego slid out of the booth and rested a hand on the table to help steady himself. "Let's go." 

 

* * *

 

 

They had almost made it back to the house when Diego's mutterings became louder. His triumphant gleam in his eyes had been replaced by a queasy look on the walk home, and his face turned a paler shade of green with each step. Everyone gave him a wide berth, letting him walk ahead while they figured out how to sneak back in.

“I have no regrets.” Diego repeated, ignoring the sniggering he could hear behind him.  

"Yeah, I bet you don't." Ben said, and Klaus choked on his snort. 

Diego came to a halt and the others stopped behind him, leaning backwards when he told them. “I think I'm going to throw up." 

They all shuffled backwards, bumping into each other, and then Allison came to her senses and lurched forwards. She spun Diego around to face the bushes on the sidewalk and the hasty movement sent his stomach churning and he leaned over and groaned loudly. 

“Don’t do that!” He protested. 

“What happened to _my body is a temple_?” Luther asked as he struggled to extract himself from the bushes. 

“Shut up. I’m young again, it doesn’t count now. I can eat anything I want.” 

“Clearly not.” Five raised his eyebrows. 

He hadn’t been able to imagine how his siblings would react to being back but not in a million years would he have thought he’d see Diego overindulging at Griddy’s. Still, it had meant they hadn’t fought each other for a few hours, and it looked like they might just be able to get along. It was a temporary fix from the bubbling tension from the afternoon. Five knew it wouldn’t last and the longer they stayed stuck in the routines that Hargreeves designed for them, they’d get worn down until any drive to fix themselves disappeared.  

He'd seen it before in the Time Bureau. People came in all wide eyed and naive, thinking they'd do their thirty or forty years and then they'd be able to climb the ranks and take a cushy desk job, maybe align a few dozen events and finally retire sometime in the early twenties, or the golden years of the Roman Empire. They'd have this amazing ability to delude themselves into thinking everything else was the problem, rather than realising it was The Handler selecting her favourites and literally relegating who she seemed the incompetents, or the uninteresting, to the annals of history. 

Hargreeves was very much like her, or maybe she had seen something in the prominent businessman when flicking through her files all those years ago or ahead and decided to emulate it in all of their interactions. Five could never tell exactly what it was that he hated about her, but the similarities between the two were undeniable. And over the past week or so, he'd been convincing himself what a wreck of the timeline he'd make if he tried to repeat a variation of The Handler's sticky ending again. 

Vanya tugged at Five’s blazer, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Come on, we have to get back. Pogo’s probably locked the front door." 

"Probably, but the geriatric bastard was leaving for that fancy mountain summit. He won't be back until Monday. We've got the house to ourselves.”

Klaus sidestepped past her and took Five by the shoulders to shake him until his hair loosened from his neatly combed style and flopped down over his eyes. "Quick, someone call a locksmith!"

Five shoved him off and brushed himself down before following Vanya down the block and into the side alleyway. They waited in silence for Luther to catch up and give them all a boost over the wall, and then they crept across the dark courtyard to reach the back door. They slipped into the kitchen and switched on the sidelights. A low hum filled the room and they paused to listen to the old house creak. The silence resounded on the ground floor and any hesitation about running into Grace or Pogo faded quickly. 

Diego leaned down and rinsed the sugary taste out of mouth out in the big sink, drinking straight from the tap. He got a swift kick to the shin and gargled out a howl as Allison took advantage of him sliding back to fill up a glass of water. He hobbled away and then shuffled into the corridor, still feeling too queasy to retaliate. 

"We can carry on your training on Sunday. On the roof?" Five told Vanya, and she gave a small nod before he jumped away.

Luther headed off after him, "Good work today, Vanya." 

As they left, Allison dumped her empty glass on the sideboard and gave her a small squeeze on her shoulder. “You know, Vanya, you’re nothing short of extraordinary. Night, sis.” 

Vanya gave her a small smile as she left and leaned back against the table to think, not wanting to head back up to her bedroom. It felt like her world was still spinning and she hadn’t had a chance to put her feet back on the ground. Only her and Klaus remained in the kitchen. He fidgeted silently behind her and then began opening and shutting the cupboards at random. She moved past him to get into the snack cupboard to scoop out a spoonful of peanut butter and artfully dolloped it onto a giant marshmallow. 

“See you in the morning Klaus.” Vanya said as she screwed the lid back onto the jar and stuffed the snack into her mouth. 

He spoke just as she got to the door. "Hey, I heard what Luther was telling you in the diner.” 

“Yeah?” 

“It wasn’t bad advice. And you can take it from someone who knows all about bad habits, but the same basics apply to the good one's too,” said Klaus. "Start with the small things. You already know you're powerful enough to bring down the moon. It really is just about control. It’s the first thing that disappears when you’re scared, or angry...but if you get a handle on it, you’ll be laughing."

"What about you?" Vanya asked, crossing her arms. "I heard you talking to Ben. You've been doing extra homework of your own, haven't you?"

Klaus paled, "Sort of."

"You keep whispering. What is it?"

"Nothing much." He shook his head and headed for the door. "Nothing for you to worry your apocalyptic twitchy fingers about. I'm keeping my nose squeaky clean." 

“That’s not the point, Klaus.”

He barely turned his head when he replied. “This is something I need to do for myself. You understand, don’t you?” 

Vanya nodded slowly, feeling her stomach sink and whatever grasp on her family she had managed to gain. It always started like this and then everyone drew away until it made sense for her to leave too. She was tired but before she let him go, she realised there was one thing she could say, albeit hesitantly. “Okay, but if you need help...just ask.” 

Klaus’ faint smile in return was worth it. 

 


	4. Under Pressure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben walks back down a well-worn path, and takes a few detours along the way. 
> 
> It’s never fun revisiting old memories, but it’s worse reliving childhood terrors.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “It's the terror of knowing what this world is about  
> Watching some good friends screaming, let me out!”  
> -Under Pressure, Queen

The alarm blared and his arm shot out to knock into the bedside cabinet twice before he managed to turn it off.

Ben hadn't even opened his eyes when he heard the tapping on the wall above his head. He was thankful for the light raps on the plasterboard dividing their rooms. The soft noise brushed against his consciousness, drawing him out of his sleep, the little vibrations passing through the headboard and into his skull. 

_ Hey, are you awake? _

"Yeah." He said blearily and then remembered to knock it out on the wall. 

_ Talk before breakfast.  _

_ Okay.  _

He could hear Klaus get up and begin rummaging around in his room, getting ready for the day and knew he should do the same as well, but reasoned a few extra minutes in bed wouldn't do any harm. 

He closed his eyes and then opened them, repeating the motion and enjoying the realness of it. No one else decided on where he existed.  _ He _ didn't depend on his brother anymore. Two weeks into his old-new life and it still felt wildly surreal and thrilling just to breathe, eat, and sleep. 

Ben swung his legs around and off the bed, and as he stood, he told himself,  _ one day further from dying young _ , and meant it. 

He dressed quickly and went to meet Klaus in the parlour room while Pogo set the breakfast table next door and Grace ushered the rest of them downstairs to begin training. Ben sat down on the floor in front of the sofa and picked at the loose threads on the rug, sure that he was out of the sight line of the camera fixed to the top of the bookshelf behind him. 

When Klaus collapsed in a pile of limbs beside him only minutes later, he bumped his shoulder against his in a silent greeting. 

Klaus slid back and whispered, "I wanted to talk to you before we go for group training. Because it's not long until we go into the field...and you know...it happens."

"Oh. Okay." Ben replied hesitantly, for lack of not knowing what to say. 

He had thought his brother would have had something else to say. A wild idea about breaking into Hargreeves' office, or of a new way on improving his new talents. Those were conversations he'd preferred to have had, instead of this one. It was way too early in the morning to even think about the things that kept him up at night with their cold dread. 

Klaus smiled awkwardly and stretched out his feet. His polished shoes were at odds with his untucked shirt and loosened tie, but he had enough self-preservation to straighten himself out before they began running laps or drills. 

“You don't have to look so worried.”

“I'm not worried,” Ben snapped back. Then immediately switched track because lying was useless. “Okay, I'm a little worried.”

“I know.”

“It's just...I don't like it.”

“I know.” Klaus repeated flatly, jabbing an elbow at him. 

“What do you mean?" Ben froze and the feeling of dread seeped in to chase away any hunger for breakfast. “You felt it?”

Klaus threw him a half smile, trying to hold back the sympathetic curl of his lip and failed. So he just ended up shrugging. 

It wasn't hard to put two and two together. Ben guessed Klaus knew exactly how it felt because from channelling him in the fight at the concert hall. The tentacles completely instinctive once unleashed, ripping through people as effortlessly as they cut through the air. But they were also immaterial, and he had been dead. The damage had already been done.

“Yeah. And you shouldn’t have to use it again if you don't want to."

“Are you serious?”

“As a heart attack. Which is also like how-” He waggled his fingers in front of his chest, “You know.”

"Sometimes it's more like the whole world is trying to force itself out of a seven-inch hole in my body."

"Yeah, I'm going to pass on that shit," grimaced Klaus. "Look, we'll figure something out."

Ben rolled his eyes. He couldn't fool himself, but a small part of his clung onto the idea of not having to use his power on missions with a gossamer thin shred of hope. He hadn't always been so lucky. They all used to follow their training and those game plans tended to put him front and centre as a distraction. His family counted on him as being an effective way to thin out the enemy, and along with his unhindered desire to be accepted by their dad and seen a useful by Luther, it wasn't shocking to see how it all finally led up to the disaster. There were raw details in Vanya's book that he was still reluctant to accept. And although he could easily look back on it now and accept it for what it was, but it didn’t mean he wanted to live through a repeat.

“If you think of something-” 

“We’ll sort it.” 

* * *

 

He gets distracted in class; he can't help it. It's been years since he's had to worry about dodging someone for fear of getting hurt. He's not quick enough or attentive enough to move out of the way and their training sessions are just as painful as he remembered. Other things haven't changed much either. Luther and Diego still compete, although it's a little less vicious than it used to be. Now they pull their punches a little more than expected while Hargreeves watches over them and makes scathing notes. 

Their training session that morning runs on and one, and he can hear his stomach growling over the sound of Diego's grunts. With his attention halfway across the room, Allison landed yet another punch and Ben fell flat on his back in a clatter of limbs. He could tell she hadn't expected to knock him off his feet but the guilt on her face disappears as Hargreeves walks down the line to stand in front of them. 

When Ben looked up at him, the strength in his legs faded until he felt like he was made of jelly. 

"Do you know what you did wrong?" 

While phrased like a question, it was anything but. 

"Yes, sir. I wasn't paying attention. I should have hit back quicker."

The old man peered at him from behind his monocle. "Lines, Number Six.  _ I must do better. _ "

Ben clambered to his feet and nodded. "Yes sir."

He walked to the other side of the room and picked up the chalk as the training session resumed and Allison was instructed to join Five and Klaus. Ben still watched as they fought while Five dodged both of them. The chalk crumbled under his fingers and scraped roughly against the blackboard with each mark breaking up the soft thump of punches landing and the squeak of shoes on the wooden flooring. 

_ I must do better _

_ I must do better  _

_ I must do better _

_ I must do better _

His mind drifted away again, and Ben couldn't help but think about all the times he had already tried to do better, whole alive and dead. None of them had got him to where he needed to be or where Sir Reginald Hargreeves wanted him. 

_ I must  _

The noise of Diego slamming into the floor had Ben peeking out from behind the blackboard again. 

Across the room, Luther stared down at Diego and the grim look on his brother's face. Then he turned back at Hargreeves who gave him a curt nod before returning to his notepad. 

It was the slightest of twitches. A meagre scrap of acknowledgement would have been yet another thing they fought over the first time around, but now Ben watched alongside his siblings as Luther very slowly extended his hand and Diego used it to pull himself back up without a single word. 

As usual, Hargreeves paid them no attention.  

He didn't catch the tiny scowl aimed directly at his turned back that Allison allowed to break across her face. He didn't see the toss of Klaus' head from a comment tucked behind his clamped lips. He also missed Diego brushing past Luther to resume his position again, and the way it hid his mouthed  _ thanks _ . 

Ben let out a long exhale, eyes flicking back and forth across the jumble of teenagers. There had been a frozen, tiny lurch in his stomach, hating the idea of another grudge festering at the breakfast table, but it melted away. The normal jostling that accompanied a training session seemed to have been shoved aside by the renewed, collective discontent they all felt for their father. 

Their reactions felt like a turning point to Ben. The last two weeks had been a shock to them all as they continually struggled with being young again. The independence they fought for their whole childhoods had vanished, and despite their talents they had lost meaningful things and important people in the process of saving their own skin from the oncoming apocalypse. Their futures now hinged purely on chance and it was going to be a tricky thing avoiding repeating the same mistakes that had screwed them up. Especially when they were walking down the same, long worn paths. 

But Ben thought that maybe they did have some luck, because the one big difference was that they had never been on the same side like this before. And definitely not in a training session right underneath Hargreeves' nose. 

"Six. Have you finished?"

Ben jerked on the spot, nearly dropping the chalk bit. "Almost, sir."

Hargreeves grumbled and then turned to send the others off towards the courtyard to run laps. He trailed after them, still scribbling in his notepad, leaving Ben alone in the room with a half-filled board. 

Ben finished off his lines slowly, aiming to find a balance of looking productive enough but also being able to waste enough time so he could avoid having to join his brothers and Allison, or worse, having to catch up to them. He filled every inch of the blackboard until he was sure that Hargreeves would be satisfied and resigned himself to however many laps awaited him.  

Replacing the chalk in the dip under the blackboard, he brushed the bitty dust off his hand and debated how slowly he should walk. Too long dawdling could end up with more lines or worse, double the number of pre-breakfast laps.

He picked up the pace a little and headed off when a sharp pain in his chest brought him to his knees. He saw a single, ruddy purple tentacle emerge from the centre of his chest. Ben grimaced in pain. His breath was snatched away, and his mind went blank for what felt like forever. The sharp pain faded away, fraction by fraction, until he could feel the varnished wood under his clenched hands. 

"Six? Why are you not outside?" 

Pogo stepped into the room looking irate before noticing why the boy was hunched over on the floor. The chimpanzee hurried over and with two strong arms levered the boy back to his feet, avoiding the tentacle that snapped back and forth, seeking purchase on something in its newly breached dimension. 

"I can't make it go back!" Ben clasped back the hairy hands holding him up and tried to look everywhere except the spreading bloodstain on his chest. "It's not going back!" 

Wasting no time, Pogo yanked him back up to his feet and pulled him sideways back towards the corridor and the medical room. "Hold on, Six." 

They made quick progress despite Ben crumpling against Pogo's suit bonelessly. Halfway down, they shuffled passed Grace carrying a stack of freshly laundered towels. She immediately bent to place them on the floor before turning and following them into the medical room. Her normally smooth features were pinched with tension as she helped Ben onto the gurney and neatly slapped back the tentacle as it reached for Pogo's neck. Together they worked quickly to strap him down and then Pogo reached into the drawer for a large laser cutter. The chimpanzee’s free hand jutted out, trying to grasp hold of the tentacle, but missed on the first few grabs. When he finally managed to catch it, the suckers popped noisily and it writhed erratically.

When Ben craned his neck up to look, he thought his stomach had dropped out of his body, but he managed to gasp out a warning. "No, no, it'll come back worse! Please!" 

His words were clogged up inside his throat and each breath felt like an uphill struggle, battling for space with the creatures' tentacle. The bulk of it pressed against him, seeking to force its way through fully without any regard for his existence. He had spent his young years learning how to push back and building up a small arsenal of tricks to help channel the creatures he was irreversibly connected to, and he had failed. Now it seemed like nothing was working and a whole dimension threatened to leak through his fragile human body. 

It wasn't a battle he wanted to lose.   

He slammed his head back down on the gurney when his torso rose up with the force of the limb trying to escape yet again. Although Pogo frowned in confusion, he stretched backwards to fumble in the drawer for an alternative with slippery, bloody fingers. Grace held Ben down with firm hands, stronger than any human could have, and then the chimpanzee quickly turned back with a large needle in hand and jammed it straight into the tentacle. 

They all watched as the tentacle went limp after a few seconds. The relief was immediate as the immaterial pressure behind his ribs floated away. Ben sagged back onto the hard surface and lifted a trembling hand to brush the sweat out of his eyes. Then he hovered over the painful hold in his chest but didn't dare to touch it. His shirt was uncomfortably sodden with blood and the cold wetness stuck to his skin.  

"It's done." Pogo exhaled sharply and held out the used needle. 

After wiping her hands on what had been a pristine, starched apron, Grace plucked it from his grip to dispose of it. It dropped into the bin with a clang that reverberated around Ben's head. When she returned to the side of the gurney, she reached out a cool hand to brush the side of Ben's cheek. 

"You're okay, Six."

"Mom, Ben. Please,” he said drowsily. 

Grace paused and her bright eyes darted to scour the empty doorway and then panned across to look at Pogo, but he only sat down on the rolling stool to catch his breath back. 

"You're okay, Ben." She said, no quieter or louder than the first-time round. 

With Pogo’s help, she pushed the tentacle back into his chest and then moved away to mop up the spilled blood all over the floor and into the corridor. The narrow, gaping hole running down his front oozed sluggishly. When he craned his head forward to look, his vision blurred and tilted. His wheeling eyes passed over Pogo who opened up another storage cabinet with a defeating rattle to take out a stitching kit and then the chimpanzee was gone.  

The lights on the ceiling above flared bright and blurred out to fill his whole vision. After what felt like forever, the light dimmed, blocked out as Grace outstretched a pale hand above his face. When he blinked again, she had sat down on the vacated stood and was threading the needle. Her usual, beaming smile had returned and he found it bizarrely reassuring. 

"Now, Ben. Let's close you up. It won't take long at all." 

His head lolled back to listen to her humming as she worked; a cheerful tune that smoothed out the remaining sharp edges of his panic. Each stitch was a dull tug on his skin, but she pieced him back until it was just a single dotted line down his middle. When she was done and had helped him into a new pair of pyjamas, she sat back down and her humming turned into a soft lullaby. Ben fell asleep quickly on the cold hard gurney underneath her smile.

* * *

 

Klaus was there when he woke, which was a surprise. Normally when his brother was sober enough to have him around, it was Ben who had to watch him snore like a wounded rhinoceros and potter around aimlessly with nothing better to do. The tables had turned now he was living. He winced when Klaus saw his eyelids flutter open and prodded him on his arm, digging his finger into real flesh. 

"I heard you were being a dramatic bitch."

Ben chuckled weakly, feeling the stitches in his chest stretch with the sudden movement. "Something like that."

"Father dearest is mad, as you can imagine." Ben shut his eyes, not wanting to know any more, but Klaus never could take a hint and pushed on. "What were you thinking?"

Ben's eyes flew open at the accusation. "I didn't want it to happen."

"I thought you had it, like, under control." 

He shook his head, and then groaned weakly when it made his head spin. "I  _ want _ to."

Just to get the final word in, Klaus dropped his voice to a whisper when Pogo walked into the room with a dinner plate stacked high and a glass of water. "Well, I dunno if you have that luxury, bro." 

Klaus rolled away from the gurney as Pogo took readings from the machine Ben was hooked up to. Ben watched as he eyed the bread roll, but swiped a more appealing biscuit when Pogo wasn't looking.

Ben stuck out his tongue in protest. 

They kept up the silence but as the chimpanzee finished up his recordings, Klaus turned to him to ask, "It's a bit drafty in here, don't you think?"

Pogo was unimpressed at the teenager's attitude. But he appraised Ben's paler and gave a nod. "I'll fetch another blanket. You'll need to leave soon. Lights out in five minutes, and besides Six requires his rest if he is to heal quickly."

Klaus flipped his hand up in a silent salute and Pogo left, pulling the door after so that it was left slightly ajar. "Like I'm going to leave." He muttered under his breath. 

Ben rolled his eyes and shuffled sideways so that he could look at Klaus properly without having to bend his neck awkwardly. He felt more awake; his brush with death had shaken him up completely. His heart thumped away inside his chest, alone but growing stronger, and out of all the things fuzzing up in the corners of his head there was one odd thing that had begun to sharpen up. 

"Hey, remember that time you asked me why I was dead?"

Klaus frowned, confused at the strange question. "Uh, no I don't."

Ben yawned, "Yeah you did. And we both know why. I just keep hoping that this time round I can stop it. Just, not die."

"Solid plan."

"I know, right? Anyway...I want to be able to do the things I want to do. Not shadow you, or be stuck here. I could actually do anything."

He tried to prop himself up on his elbow, but couldn't ignore the dull ache that flared across his chest. Despite the pain, Ben whispered gleefully, "I can go anywhere. Allison got to be an actress, Vanya ended up the first chair violinist...even with her whole music power thing...I mean I could do whatever I want."

Klaus grinned at him as he folded his arms on the side of the gurney and rested his head on top. "Tell me about your bucket list then. What's number one for number six?" 

"The sea, I want to see the sea. It sounds dumb, doesn't it. But it never looks the same. And all that blue."

Ben yawned loudly again. His mouth stretched wide and then shrunk back to a sleepy smile, but he continued talking until his words slurred together and he drifted off to sleep. 

* * *

 

Ben fidgeted incessantly, and he could feel Luther's eyes drifting back over to him each time he shuffled on the spot. He tugged at his blazer sleeves which felt too short, his old hoodie had ones he'd stretched over his hands until the material was worn thin around the wrists. Then he pulled down his tie which wasn't the right length. He fiddled with the silky material until it bothered him way too much, so he yanked it up over his head and jammed it into his pocket. His socks made his shins itch and the back of his crisp white shirt was sticking to his sweaty back. He wanted nothing more than his hoodie and coat. 

And to be invisible, he would have given anything to be invisible right there and then. 

"Stop it." Five hissed at Ben, slapping his hand when he reached up to tug at his collar again.  

Aside from Vanya who had been told to remain at the house with Grave and Pogo, the six official members of the Umbrella Academy were huddled in a circle half a block away from their new mission. It was the first one since coming back, and Luther repeated the plan again, snapping out their strategy to drill it into them. They were all nervous, but the gruelling training had whipped them back into shape and they were as prepared as they would ever be.

Luther spoke bluntly and quickly, reinforced by a steely but confident manner, "Just to recap, Ben heads in first to clear the way, and then Five and Diego. The rest of us follow and secure the building using the pattern Echo."

Ben found himself nodding along dumbly. He could feel his stomach plummet towards the centre of the Earth. He had to force himself to concentrate and ignore the thumping in his ears, so he sucked in a breath hard enough to shake himself bodily. 

He'd had been dreading this day. 

Then he was suddenly elbowed backwards by Klaus who leaned forwards and stuck his face across the circle to talk over Luther, who was repeating the plan for the  _ fourth _ time. 

"Or... I can go in and throw them completely off their game! If it's a distraction you need, I can work my magic." 

The old Luther wouldn't have even entertained the notion that his plan could have been improved. But here was Klaus, throwing his hands in his face, and technically,  _ technically, _ volunteering himself to do something.

They all watched the new Luther hesitate visibly, and those extra seconds gave him enough time to take in Ben's pale face and the way his hand had risen up to cover his chest. Luther looked uneasy about the change but nodded slowly.

"What did you have in mind, Klaus?"

And just like that, the plan switched. 

* * *

 

On the following mission, Ben took matters into his own hands and outright volunteered himself to climb to the rooftop of the opposite building and start a two-hour stakeout. It would give him enough time to keep a log of the targets before the rest of the Academy breached the warehouse and broke up the smuggling ring inside, and continue a watch on the exits. Although Luther showed his reluctance during the planning session, he had to agree when no one else volunteered instead. 

Without waiting for the decision to change, Ben dashed off down the block. He hauled himself up the fire escape, taking the steps two at a time and edged towards the lip of the roof while being careful to stay out of sight. When he got to a good spot, he took the radio out from his pocket and extended the aerial, making sure that remained below the wall. 

“I’m in position, over.” 

“Good, keep watch and let us know when they’ve all arrived, over.” Luther answered, and the line fell dead with a burst of static. 

A short while after he'd settled himself in for the long watch, Ben heard quiet footsteps on the fire escape leading up to the rooftop. He turned slowly and then shuffled across soundlessly to crouch behind a skylight so that he wouldn’t be immediately visible on the otherwise flat roof. 

“Ben?” Vanya called out, brushing her fringe back out of her eyes as she made it to the top.  

He poked his head out and gestured for her to duck, so she hunkered down and made her way over to his hiding spot. “What are you doing here?” 

“Blueprints.” Vanya hissed back as she took off her backpack and pulled out a sketchpad, a pair of binoculars, and some pencils. “They don’t need me down there either, and dad thought I should do something useful if I was going to tag along.”  

She sat down beside him and together they watched the players slowly arrive for the illegal auction. By sunset, the Umbrella Academy were also in place. Diego had scaled up the side of the building and dangled precariously off a window ledge for a few seconds until he managed to get enough purchase on the side to pull himself up and sit. Luther had circled around from the main road to hang back in the side alley between the garbage bins, right outside the main shutters, but stuck to the shadows so he could keep an eye on Allison's approach. 

Allison, dressed smartly in her uniform, walked up to the warehouse shutters and rapped loudly on the metal. “Hello? Anyone in there?” 

The side door opened and a rangy looking man in a dirty jumpsuit hovered in the doorway to stare down at the teenage girl. Klaus emerged from the shadows behind him, having somehow crept along the side without Ben noticing, to kick out at the man's knees. He sent the jump suited man face first into the concrete where Allison hopped forward to punch his lights out. Then Klaus propped the door open with his foot while the other two took the unconscious man by his arms and legs and tossed him into one of the garbage bins. 

Luther's instructions came down the line, “Ben, we’re heading in. Five, get ready, over.” 

“On my way, over.” Five said over the radio, and then the air beside Vanya rippled blue, squeezing inwards to spit him out onto the rooftop. “What have you got for me?” 

Vanya handed over her sketchpad and binoculars to him. “It’s got a converted storage space in the roof, probably the best place for you to jump into. No one's been up there for the last hour.” 

“I see it.” Five said, sizing up the room through the upper floor windows. 

“They’re about to go," warned Ben. 

They looked over the lip of the roof to see Allison adjusting her mask outside the front door and then shaking out her shoulders to stand a little taller. She led the charge inside, followed by Klaus as a secondary distraction. There was a shattering of glass as Diego swooped in from the first floor to join the hubbub. Their dramatic entrance raised the alarm, and hired security rushed to intercept and then flee, but Luther had anticipated that and hung back to block the main exit out of the building, body slamming anyone looking to leave. 

“They didn't even wait for me.” Five balled his hands into fists. The air sloshed around him before folding him up. 

Vanya waved him off, "Is it weird to say I've kinda missed that. Even if it is really annoying."

Ben watched the events across the street closely, following the action from one window to another as his siblings found and captured each major player. It was a simple sort of bag-and-tag mission that had followed news headlines lamenting missing stashes of cash from bank robberies and break-ins from the city’s more notable figures. Sir Reginald Hargreeves had been itching to step in and lend a helping hand in the recovery, alongside the incentive of gaining another slew of awards for his notorious Academy.

“There’s one trying to duck out. On the third floor.” Ben called out after about five minutes, having caught sight of a man in a black suit with wheeling arms sprinting up the side stairs and then disappearing out of sight, only to reappear three widows across and far more closer to the unguarded fire escape. "It's Jordans."

Five turned to the windows and waved out of then before teleporting himself across to block the smuggler's exit. He hurled a chair into the man’s face causing him to drop like a sack of potatoes. Then he took hold of a leg and dragged Jordans back downstairs to be tied up with the others.  

"We good?" asked Diego. 

"Five sorted it," replied Ben.  

Luther cleared his throat down the line, “Alright, good work everyone. And good spot Ben. We’re finished here, the police can take them in. We'll meet you and Vanya back at the car, over.” 

Ben folded up the walkie talkie antenna and turned back to Vanya, expecting her to have packed up her sketchpad and pencils, but instead found her frozen on the spot. “Vanya?” 

She slowly turned back to him, dark eyes watering with the cool night wind. “Can we just stay here for a few minutes more?” 

An irrational surge of reluctance welled up. Ben knew that Hargreeves would be waiting in the car and would be cross with them for being later than expected. But he caught himself and shoved the feeling away, taking care to give her a small smile. 

“Sure, we can stay.” 

They held out for as long as was reasonable, and Vanya quickly ripped out the pages from her sketchpad that didn’t contain blueprints. They were quick doodles and half shaded drawings of the city’s skyline from the rooftop; of the park, and the pond, and the sprawling mess of the busy streets. Ben helped her fold them up small, and then stuffed a few into his own pocket, knowing it would be safer to split the hoard between them, just in case. 

“How are you?” 

“I’m fine.” She replied, hoisting her bag onto her back.

But she didn't seem to have understood his question, so he repeated it. 

“No, really.” He said flatly and she paused, bristling for what felt like a long moment, and then turned back to face him with a heart-breaking look of despair on her face. It was only a short walk to the fire escape, and the car was only parked below. After that, they would be back under Hargreeves’ watch, unable to speak truthfully or show their real frustrations. 

“I hate being here. I hated it back then, and I hate it even more now!"  

Ben struggled to find his words under the force of her glare. But he suddenly arrived at a useful thought so he stepped forwards and asked, “What else?” 

“I wish I could make everything just...stop.” 

She growled out her frustration, and Ben felt the wind whip up on the rooftop. His hair stood on end while hers was tossed back and forth. 

“You could." He pushed on, watching her face twist up with smothered anger. 

“I know.” Her eyes flashed white, “And I keep asking myself why I shouldn’t.” 

Ben took another step forward, the force of the wind pushing against him in a way that he had to brace his feet. His feet slid back further, and he had to fight to stay within shouting distance. 

"You wanted to do this for your family. Because you wanted to do this for us!"

Vanya blinked and her eyes shifted from white to brown and back again. She opened her mouth in a silent scream, pure anger flying off her in waves that roiled and sunk into the gravel covering the rooftop, rolling it back in deep, shuddering waves. 

"Vanya. Vanya!" Ben shouted as loudly as he dared to, hearing the police sirens approach. "You've seen how it ends and you wanted to choose a different way. And you can do it Vanya, I know you can!" 

The wind died down as quickly as it started and he staggered forward towards her. Her shoulders shook but she wrapped her arms around herself and squeezed tightly. Ben slung one arm over her shoulder lightly and rested his chin on her head. 

"We've got to go back." 

"How can you say that?" She mumbled hoarsely. 

Because I know that it won't always be like this."

Vanya pushed him off and stumbled towards the fire escape. "You were in the medical room last week. Don't make promises you can't keep."

"That's not fair. You know what it's like better than the others. Apart from maybe Klaus." Ben sprinted past to block her path downwards. "Why? Did you think I lied? Did you think it was going to be as easy as a _ promise? _ "

The wind rose up again, flaring her long hair around her shoulders and then settled back down again. "You shouldn't even have said anything!" 

"I said it because you needed to know you're not alone. And I  _ wish _ it was that easy. I really do. But it's not. It's going to be the hardest thing we've ever had to do and the others will never be able to understand. But not trying? Not caring? It's a thousand times worse." 

He turned back to the fire escape and took the first few steps before looking back at her. "Are you coming home, Vanya?"

Her feet were rooted to the spot while his words settled in her head. 

"Yeah. I am." She finally replied as she followed him down to the car that would take them all back to the Academy. "And I do care.

"Good."

* * *

 

It was on the third mission after the return to their teen years when things got sticky. It had started out relatively simple. They’d been called in to help with an easy enough hostage recovery of the City Attorney's six-year-old daughter. But once they arrived, things went sharply downhill in a way that made Ben stare with horror from his viewpoint on the water tower opposite.

Vanya sat with him on the railing and they winced in unison as Diego was knocked out cold on the kitchen tiles. Upstairs, things were also going badly. Luther and Klaus were pinned down in a nook behind an upturned table with the screaming little girl while three men in boiler suits and zebra masks aimed flamethrowers at them, setting all the papers and books ablaze. Ben and Vanya could also see through the French windows where Allison had taken shelter; downstairs in the living room, right behind a sofa that was having its stuffing shot out. Five was in the room with her too. He had wedged himself between the coffee table and an armchair, shaking with exhaustion in the corner after hitting his jump limit. 

“This is bad. This, is really bad.” Vanya muttered under her breath so that Hargreeves couldn’t hear her. 

Their father stood in front of the water tower and watched the disaster unfold. His hands remained folded behind his back and he peered out through his monocle, calling out every perceived mistake. He had tutted loudly when Diego had been cracked over the head and sighed as Five ran out of his jumps.

Another sweep of flame upstairs flared further to shatter the windows. It rained down broken glass on the courtyard, and over the girl’s trampoline and scattered toys. Vanya winced and her hand slipped on the rail from the distraction. She barely caught her breath back when Allison had to duck further down as a new hail of bullets sliced off the top of the sofa.  

Ben’s eyes flicked back and forth between the two floors, hoping to see Diego waking up or Five getting ready to jump back into action. One was still spark out and the other had a grimace Ben could see without the binoculars. 

Meaning his hopes were just that. 

“This is fixable, right?” Vanya asked, not daring to take her eyes off the house or the billowing smoke flowing out of the windows to sink lower to cover the view of the kitchen. 

Ben's nerves spiked when Diego disappeared from sight behind the grey smoke. “I don't know if it is. Can you think of a worse mission?” 

She stayed silent. 

It was true, neither of them could recall a time when a mission had gone this badly. 

He couldn't take it any longer. 

“I have to go.” Ben whispered with a hand over his chest, just knowing how easily the still-healing skin would split. 

Vanya shuffled a little closer on the pretence of taking the binoculars from him and gave his hand a quick squeeze. Hargreeves let out another heavy sigh of frustration in front of them, still fixed on the disaster unfolding across the road. The two teenagers ignored him and shared a look of determination; one a reluctant wielder of terrible power and the other wistfully redundant for the moment. Then Ben let himself down off the rail to stand on the rooftop. 

“Be careful,” cautioned Vanya as she slid down beside him. 

“I'll try my best.” 

“Good." She whispered back as he sped off towards the staircase. Then she slipped her crossed fingers into her pocket and lifted up the binoculars to watch the rescue unfold. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Why is it that this chapter, with its smallest of concept-idea thingys, ends up being longer than expected? Honestly, like the original idea was a single line of 'Ben's tentacles mess him up.'
> 
> 2) I am sitting here like a seventeenth century lady fanning herself furiously in a desperate attempt to keep myself from being overcome with sheer awe about how many readers there are for this fic (I’m not going to lie, I get absolutely thrilled about every single kudos, comment and bookmark)


	5. Stacking The Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old faces return and an old threat looms...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I was born with lightning in my heels  
> Sewed a spur onto my ankle  
> Bit a horse under the steel.  
> And I lost hope when I was still so young  
> Had an angel on my shoulder  
> But the devil always won"  
> -Chasing Twisters, Delta Rae

Their hour of Sunday recreation was always fleeting, and Five felt the dull, sickening twist in his stomach keenly as he paced in the hallway while waiting for the clock to strike. His aim was to spend the sixty minutes he had as far away from the Academy as possible. He hadn't even bothered to change out of his uniform unlike the rest of his siblings loitered in the hallway with him, like runners at the starting block. When the chimes sounded, Allison wasted no time in yanking the front door open and ran out, followed by Luther and Diego. 

But as Five went to leave too, he came to a halt in front of the open door, held back by an invisible, impermeable barrier of his own anger and the old, unwelcome realisation of knowing he was on a leash. He almost laughed at himself, because he had forgotten it. It had been scrubbed out by years of independently eking out an existence in an apocalyptic wasteland. Now, a sticky hot anger was rising up and he was taken aback by how much he had hated his childhood first time around, so much so, that he had ignored all sane warnings and flung himself out of time. But lessons had been learnt. The hard way had been a long and lonely slog. 

So, when Klaus mooched past him in jeans and a bright green t-shirt a few minutes after the others had disappeared and said he was going to the park, Five mumbled that he'd go along too. 

"Why?" 

Maybe it would scratch the itch of wanting to disappear, even though he never wanted to do another time jump. "Why not? Five replied with a shrug and stepped out into the weak Sunday morning sunshine. 

The park was busy for a Sunday morning. There were small clumps of people around the fountain across the expanse of dewy grass trying to enjoy the breaks in the cloud. Five watched a trio of mothers dangling their children’s feet into the cool water and allowed himself to smile. Behind them were gaggles of teenagers rolling past with their skateboards and scooters, and a few people circled lazily on the cycle paths that wound around the rest of the park. 

The two of them walked through the gated main entrance without much conversation, and once they hit the main path, Klaus ran off towards the hot dog stand claiming starvation or boredom, or a severe craving for a lukewarm sausage drenched in mustard with crispy onions on top. Either way, the explanation had Five rolling his eyes as he saw his brother cutting across the grassy incline, with the intention of beating a pair of twin girls and their mother who were on their way there too. 

"Classy." Five muttered under his breath and carried on walking slowly along the gravel path, pausing to buy coffee from a small, battered drink cart. 

He walked down one of the winding paths and ended up on top of the hill overlooking the patchwork of grass and picnic blankets stretched out towards the black railings. Beyond them, the tall trees and thick bushes marked out the separation between the outside world. He caught sight of an old couple, walking sticks in hand and arms linked, slowly shuffling up towards where he sat. As they passed by Five gave them a little nod and the old wife's withered mouth turned up into a smile. 

He slumped back against the bench and let the noises wash over him. It was a relief to be outdoors without a real reason. It was an even bigger relief to exist in a world that was still turning. The moment crept on and he turned his coffee cup around in his hands to let the remaining liquid warm up his cold fingers.

Even though the seconds of his precious hour were ticking away, he felt a stillness that went beyond the feeling of detachment from a stakeout. 

Someone sat down beside him and said, “It’s a nice day for it, isn’t it?” 

Without looking, he recognised the woman's voice instantly and his reaction was immediate and visceral; his heart clenched tight and a stab of fear sunk deep into his chest to numb him. The instinct to run for his life yank madly at his every nerve. When he turned to face her, he knew his eyes had widened. The Controller stared back at him with a prim, placid smile, pleased she had elicited such as reaction.

"What I wouldn’t give to know your little secret to youth. I’ve forbidden myself from smiling, to slow down wrinkling." She crossed her legs and brushed away an invisible bit of dust on her red dress before throwing a cheeky wink at him. 

He ignored her as his thoughts flung themselves against the sides of his brain, calculating exactly what kind of situation he had now found himself in. They were in a public place, so he knew she wouldn't make a scene for fear of any butterfly wings snapping off. But she wouldn’t have come alone. Not after the damage he had caused her. If he tried to jump, there was a high possibility of landing right in the middle of a trap. 

Five let his heartbeats even out and then spoke flatly, "It wouldn’t work out for you." 

He let his gaze drift away naturally as he took a casual sip of his coffee. It was followed by a long sweep back, checking further behind the treeline and down by the pond. He looked at each and every mother cooing at her child, the lone dog walkers scooping up dog shit, the teenagers throwing a football around, the couples laying on their picnic blankets with their fingers entwined and their books abandoned. 

It all seemed...normal.  

Either he had gotten horrifically rusty in the space of a week, or she had really come alone. He wasn’t sure which was worse. If she had turned up by herself, then he was a dead man breathing his last. He glanced back at her smiling appreciatively. "Clever boy. You think so much of me. It's heart-warming. Really. And I feel like I'm disappointing you by saying I just want to talk."

Five wiped a bland look across his face, hoping it was enough to bolster his nerves. “You know, I’m not feeling chatty today.”

"No. But you know how these things go...or how things will. And despite all of that, you can't read tea leaves because the future is such a fragile, shaky thing." She tucked a blonde lock of hair behind her ear and nodded sympathetically, which one served to put his teeth on edge. 

"That's...deep." Five picked at the edge of the paper sleeve on his coffee cup. 

"It is isn't it? You were good, Five. One of my best.” Her eyes narrowed, “But we must all know our place in the world. No matter how special we think we are."

"Have you got a point to make?"

"Not really, and it’s nothing you don't already know." She smiled widely, all white teeth and shark-like, and his stomach lurched again. "Because you _do_."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said uneasily.  

But as he stared at her, she turned translucent for a split second, and then solid once more. He was startled when he found his arm trapped under the weight of her hand where she had dragged it closer. Her nails dug into his skin through the thick material of his blazer, and his surroundings flickered. It was like being caught inside a washing machine, endless spiralling as he was hauled away from his surroundings. 

The park dissolved into a white walled room, sterile and empty except for the two of them. The Controller shifted in her seat, which was a braced metal chair that had been welded to the floor. The bench from the park had travelled with them, and Five tried to stand up but she was quicker. "Don't lie. You know what you've done."

There was the low hum of a complexly connected machine chugging away in the corner, and Five frowned as he tried to name it, but she flexed her fingers and gripped tighter until he was sure she'd break skin. Then the white walls of the room fell away and the world compressed and stretched as it transformed into a wasteland. The yellow tinged sky blazed above them and he saw an all too familiar sight of the post-apocalypse world. There was horror each way he turned his head with shattered buildings along roads made of rubble. The debris of the city lay in ruins around them, and Five knew that it stretched in every direction far beyond the horizon. 

He coughed and squinted as the dry, sulphuric air blew dust in his face. “Stop it. Stop it now!” 

He tried to pull his arm away from her, but she held on tight and continued to cycle them out of existence, sending them back to the park and back to the room again and again. Their surroundings swirled around until he gained enough control over himself to fight the feeling of free-falling and grasped her fingers with his free hand. When he bent them back until they cracked, she finally released him with a sharp hiss. 

The park snapped back into place.

"How?" Five asked as the Controller solidified beside him again. Her placid smile was gone, and a twisted snarl had replaced it, but she flashed in an out of existence. Five’s initial fear dissolved away, and he grinned. "Oh! The Potential Generator. You're a temporal shadow."

When she finally appeared again and her form held for longer than a few seconds, the Controller reached up to smooth her hair down, acting as if it had only been a slight breeze ruffling her composure. "You fuck around with the timelines and the timelines fuck around back, you arrogant little twerp. You owe me big time, and I'll be coming to collect." 

Five’s smile turned nasty. "How are you going to do that? _You_ never happened. You never will happen. You’re just a loop caught in an event horizon, an echo of a scream that died a long, long time ago."

She wasn't expecting that reaction, but when she spoke again it was with the confidence of someone who was absolutely sure they were right. It was a sight that used to put the fear into any agent within a thirty-metre radius of it. 

"That's what you think. But you’re sorely mistaken Five. See, you put one foot wrong, one _tiny_ little misstep, and I win. The future...the real future, was that glorious apocalypse which was supposed to happen. And all roads lead to it because your sister is a ticking time bomb in every _single_ timeline."

Five thought about how the chips had really fallen, and then he slumped on the bench and slung an arm onto the back of it. If she was going to accuse him of being cocky, he wanted to lean right into it and rub her nose in. "That's not going to happen. We’re working it out.” 

"Do the math, clever boy. Two plus two equals boom. One plus three equals boom. Two and a half and a little bit more... _boom._ I'll be waiting, and this time around I'll happily watch you die a miserable, deluded, old man in a barren wasteland over and over and over. Right until the very end of time. And then we can start all over again."

"It's not going to happen," Five repeated grimly.

With his concentration fixed on the Controller, Five barely noticed Klaus walking back up the hill to the bench with a hot dog in each hand. The Controller turned her sickly-sweet grin back on and stood to dust down her immaterial red dress. "I'll see you around, Five. Sooner than you think."

"Not if I can help it," Five retorted. 

She made it six or seven steps down the path, but then stopped in front of Klaus to whisper, “You know, your brother used to be my favourite. A very charming gentleman, back in the day.” 

Klaus returned her smile, utterly confused about who she was and walked past her. He sat down beside Five and offered him the spare hot dog. His brother waved it away and crossed his arms. “I was never charming. I was a professional.” 

When they looked back at the path down the hill, it was empty, and the woman had disappeared from sight. Klaus realised something was wrong. “Wait, who was she?" 

“She used to be my boss, when she was alive.”

“That makes total sense.” Klaus nodded to himself, cramming the rest of the second hot dog in his mouth and chewed noisily. 

Five checked his watch, trying to weigh up his thoughts. The Controller was talented at what she did and one of her greatest skills was plucking vulnerable people out of the timeline and turning them into her greatest assets. Her clutch of assassins was stellar, each handpicked like he had been, all at critical moments, at their most malleable. He was living proof of how effective she was. For her to appear, half solid-half temporal vapour was worrying no matter how much he pretended otherwise. It meant that the timelines hadn't taken, not fully. There was still time for the train to fly off the rails.  

“We’ve got eleven minutes to get back home.” 

Klaus shrugged and wiped his greasy hands on his trousers. “I’m going to stay for a bit longer and run back.” 

The clouds parted and the sunshine turned a little brighter, the grass greener. Five was struck again by how much life was around him. It was like a feast after a famine of radioactive dust and skin stripping wind. A woman with a polka dot dress passed by and a memory of Dolores' ever useful counsel hit him again. _Second chances, I know, I know. I'm working on things. It's just more complicated than I expected._

“Alright.” Five stretched out his legs again. “Just two minutes more.” 

“So, what did she want?" When Five shook his head, automatically dismissing it, Klaus took the bait and refused to let it pass. “Come on, just tell me.” 

"Only if you tell me what you've been doing. We all know you’re up to something."

"I’m not up to anything!" Klaus' eyes widened and he lay a hand on his chest. "Scout's honour." 

Five's eyes narrowed. For anyone else, the glare would have pinned them to the spot. Only this was Klaus, who just made a show of his apparent innocence and raised a hand to wipe smudged mustard off his cheek. "Fine. Whatever. She had a warning. Or a threat, depending on which way you look at it. Basically, we _may_ have a problem because the timelines aren’t fixed yet.”

Klaus quickly realised what his brother meant. “You mean...Vanya?” 

Five bit his tongue and nodded. “I should have seen this coming. We need to talk. Tomorrow night when Hargreeves leaves for Monaco. Tell the others.” 

 

* * *

 

After dinner was over and done, Klaus headed up to his room. He had originally planned to take his time with what he knew was going to be a tricky situation, but Five had insisted they all needed to meet while Hargreeves was out of the house, which could only happen later that night after lights out. He headed into his room, locked the door and dropped one of his pillows onto the floor. Then he drew the curtains shut and switched off the main light, before changing into his pyjamas just to get out of the godawful uniform and into something that wasn’t buttoned right up to his throat. 

Steeling himself, he flopped down on the pillow and took in a deep breath. He was sure he could do it, but there was still a lingering doubt floating at the back of his mind about whether it would actually work. Klaus leaned sideways to pop up the floorboard in front of him and took out a pair of dog tags on a simple, silver chain. He gulped in another deep breath, exhaled slowly, and reminded himself, _Stay cool, stay relaxed, but focused._

Then he settled himself in to wait. He could hear the rest of the house outside his bedroom door. With Hargreeves leaving immediately after breakfast, the constant pressure to perform had lifted. Instead of the usual day of carefully scheduled training, the teenagers had spent the day in lessons under Pogo's tutelage, had a short break to run laps, and then changed back into their uniforms for Grave to serve them dinner. It almost felt like a staycation. 

"It's going to work. It has to work." Klaus whispered to himself. 

He knew he had to believe in it, but the reality was that his powers were something still unknown to him. Klaus’ fingers traced over the stamped name on the cold metal and as he did, he thought hard on a past that didn’t feel so far away. From out of thin air, the figure appeared, as though he was always standing there. His dark skin had turned sepia with the translucent light shimmering in the dimly lit room. It made him look like an old photograph, but the movement of him taking a tentative step forward marked out as a ghost. 

He looked different to when Klaus last saw him. The smoothness of his face had creased up as the years had passed and his sharp cheekbones had softened with time and proper food. The once lean muscles of his arms and legs had gone the same way to give him a stocky frame he never possessed in his younger years.  

Jim’s laugh a little more raspier that Klaus remembered. “You got young. How’d you manage that, Boots? We all thought you died out there.” 

“Yeah? Well you got old, Jim.” Klaus’ fingers gripped the warming metal tighter and let out a shaky laugh. “I didn’t mean to leave, not really. But Dave, he…” 

The laugh petered out of Jim’s voice. “We lost both of you that day. By the time it was morning...I mean we’d looked for you as long as we could. You were gone. But we took him back to base, sent him home properly.” 

“Good.” Klaus nodded, not trusting himself to say anything else. He took another deep breath in, holding onto the sight of the aged man in front of him and tried to trust in himself. “So, what happened to you?” 

“I cut my notches and left.” Jim’s smile returned slowly, “I went home, and I got married a couple of years later to a sweet girl who moved to New York, Jane. We had two kids, a boy and a girl. Jake liked his sports, and well, Mel was a little firecracker, even as a young kid.” 

“She must have got that from you.” Klaus returned the smile, pleased that his old friend had made it out of the war and got his chance to live his life. 

“Yeah. I guess so.” Jim noted proudly. He looked on Klaus’ face and answered a question that his old comrade hadn’t asked. “And then, I got sick. It wasn’t dragged out, but it wasn’t much fun either. I got to the ripe old age of forty-six and it was a good run, but while I’m here...Boots, do one thing for me?” 

“Anything for a soul brother.” 

“Look in on my kids. They’ll be older now, but it’d still mean a lot to me.” 

“I’ll do you one better. I’ll find them and bring you back so you can see them yourself.” 

“I’ll hold you to that brother. Now, go on, do what you meant to do.” Jim nodded at Klaus’ hands and the silver chain dangling between his fingers. 

Klaus settled himself again, trying to push back against the buzzing feeling. The presence of one ghost could become distracting, and it was important to try and stay centred enough to hold Jim there while recalling stronger memories. He sank back into a stillness and concentrated on the feeling of overwhelming humidity in the air, the buzz of mosquitoes in the night, and of wading through the thick jungle with the feeling of knowing that his new found brothers would have his back when the shitshow really started. 

“Boots!” He opened his eyes and saw an older man standing beside Jim. “You seem...different?” 

Klaus looked caught sight of himself in the mirror, sitting cross legged on the pillow in his pyjamas and had to agree, “I know, it’s the colour blue. Knocks the years right off me, Tommy.” 

Beside him, Jim snorted, and Tommy pulled a face at Klaus. “You weren’t kidding about being different, were you?”

“How’d things go for you?” Jim asked him, their ghostly hands reaching for each other in brotherly, endearing slaps. 

“Oh, I went back to Okinawa, and then back home. But I couldn’t sit still there. So, I travelled around, and ended up in Australia. Dry heat, beaches and the surf.”

“I’m glad.” Klaus whispered. 

Tommy looked over at him and asked, “Are you calling the whole gang back together?” 

“Something like that.” 

“Keep going, Boots.” Jim encouraged him. 

This time Klaus left his eyes open and focussed on the hubbub of voices that filled their campsites in the early mornings and late nights after the fighting was over. He blinked twice and then another ghost had joined Jim and Tommy. One who hadn’t aged much more than a few weeks or months since Klaus had last seen him. But his stomach plummeted when he saw the bloodstains on the ghost’s clothes. The khaki was perpetually torn, and his trousers would forever be wet and muddy in the afterlife.

The soldier’s ghost took in Klaus’ bedroom and then turned to his former comrades and asked in his Texan drawl. “Klaus? Jim?” 

“Stevie.” Klaus dropped his head so that the others couldn’t see him wince. He leaned forward until he had almost slid off the pillow. His ankles were squashed against the hard floorboards until they went numb, but he didn’t pay any notice. “Stevie. What happened?”  

“Punji stakes,” he replied.   

To Klaus, the war suddenly felt like yesterday. His mouth tasted metallic and he forced himself to look up at the youngest of their group who had lost the fear that had perpetually crunched in his shoulders. Stevie’s eyes no longer darted between potential hiding spots, trying to see the shapes in the shadows of Klaus’ bedroom. It seemed, in death, there was nothing else left to fear. Klaus knew the feeling; he had felt it while watching the end of the world as Vanya pulled the moon down with her violin solo. 

“Why am I here?” Stevie asked morosely while prodding his chest.

“Klaus brought us here.” Tommy told him. “But you didn’t answer my question. How come _you’re_ young?”

There was a snort, and then Klaus realised it was him who had made the noise. He figured whatever he said wouldn’t make much sense, so he stuck to the shortest explanation. “My brother jumped my family back in time to stop the apocalypse.” 

Stevie recovered first and asked, “So how’s that going for you?” 

“I’m not sure.”

“But you’re home, right?” pressed Stevie.  

Klaus could tell the answer was important to him. “Yeah, kinda.”

“Then it’s alright.” Stevie told him with a reassuring smile of someone who never got the chance to make it home. He looked at the older ghosts a little wistful and tugged at his sleeves until Tommy nudged him with his shoulder. “What? He’s got time.” 

“It’s not over yet.” Klaus said slowly. 

“No, I guess not if you’re calling us up.” Tommy said and exchanged a look with Jim. “Concentrate harder. You’re not a complete dolt. You learnt to drive the tank in three days.”

“Let us go. And do what you need to do.” Jim told him, so Klaus did with a smile and watery eyes. 

The room emptied again, and the curtains swayed with the breeze leaking in from the window he had cracked open. Klaus tipped his head back and shut his eyes. This needed more concentration that he had actively used before. The Russian lady and the rest of them in the motel room had been a fluke and when he managed to get Ben solid enough to drag Diego out of the way of the falling roof, it had been instinctive. His soberness helped, but Klaus wasn’t sure it would be enough to pull through the soul of the voice he had been equally hoping for and dreading to see.

The wavering link between him and the other side tightened, and he knew if he pulled too hard out of a desire to make it happen or pulled away in his fear, then it would just snap. It’d be lost to him, and it would take a long time to dredge up enough confidence to try again. 

“Hey, Klaus.” 

His eyes flicked open. 

Before he could stop himself, he blurted out everything that he had held onto since he hit the cold, hard concrete pavement with a sparking briefcase in one hand and muddy dog tags in his other, “I’m sorry! You should have lived. It should have been the one who died there. I wasn’t a good fighter; I was just a survivor. You all knew that.” 

Klaus’ hands shook and he pressed them to his legs. “If I could switch places with you, I would.”  

Dave took a seat on the floor opposite him, and Klaus reached out. Their hands hovered millimetres away from each other. When he inched forward a fraction more, his real hand went right through the space where Dave’s was. It wasn’t enough. He choked out an awkward laugh before drawing his hand back and jammed them into the crook of his knees. 

“Listen, Klaus. You’ve got to know I don’t blame you for anything.”

There was silence in the room. Dave pressed his lips together and twisted around to see the mess in the corner, the bedcovers thrown onto the floor, the stack of books sticking out from under them. When he leaned back slightly, he could see a box overflowing with traded cassette tapes shoved under the bed, and he laughed, trying to break the sombre look on Klaus’ young face. “You weren’t kidding, were you? No wonder it took you a few days to keep your bunk clean.”

“I miss you...It should have been me.”

“It doesn’t work that way. It’s not like you can’t pick and choose when to go.”

“Actually…” Klaus began, and then thought twice about it and mashed his lips together. It seemed childish, but he was feeling his years creep back on him. It felt like too much. Too much feeling. Too much hope and loss. Too much of missing the man he was when he liked being himself, even if it had been for a few short months. The invisible hold that he had on Dave’s ghost faltered briefly, and he flickered. 

“Come on,” Dave prompted. “You can’t keep me here, so ask me.”

“The only time I’ve ever _not_ been useless was when I was a Sky Soldier. When I was with you.” He sighed and rubbed at his face. “But here I’ve only ever been Number Four, or the lookout, or the addict. I... just think I’m setting myself up for a fall.”

The warm look he was given in return had Klaus’ doubts slipping away, even if it was just limited to present company. 

“I think if you ever think that you’re not strong enough, or brave enough, or good enough, you just need to remember that I swear on everything I know that you are.” Dave gave him a small smile just as Klaus let him go. “And I’m not that far away, not really.” 

Then Klaus was left all alone in his bedroom again and he wiped at his eyes and stole shaky breaths again with a soft smile on his face. 

 

* * *

 

That very same evening they met on the rooftop after the hallway clock struck eleven. Allison tiptoed up the stairs, taking care to avoid the creaky floorboards. She had thrown on her thickest cardigan, but her bag still swung uncomfortably against her arm and the straps dug into her shoulder. With each step, the bottles inside clinked quietly. Behind her, Vanya reached out to touch the skirting board along the floor and her fingers came away with a thick coating of dust. 

"Did Five tell you what this was about?" Vanya whispered as she wiped off her hand onto. 

"No, but Klaus said it was about the apocalypse? It didn’t sound good."

When they got up to the roof and cracked open the window, it had only just begun to rain so they dashed across the flat top to keep from getting wet. They were the last to enter the greenhouse, and Vanya closed the door behind her as the rain started to thunder heavily on the glass walls. Both joined the boys in their pyjammas on the dust sheet spread out on the floor to complete the circle, and as Five threw a giant bag of marshmallows at Vanya, Allison opened her bag up to pass around bottles of orangeade. 

“Nice! Where’d you get these?” Klaus asked, popping the top of one of the bottles. 

Allison winked at him. “Hey, you’re not the only one who can sell an autograph.”

“Come on then, what’s so important we had to climb up here?” Diego asked, fingers tapping against his drink. 

“I’m glad you asked bro.” Klaus tipped his head forwards and scanned his eyes around the small circle, “I’ve gathered you all here today-”

Five elbowed him. “Shut up. It isn’t a joke.” 

“So, what is it then?” Luther asked, reaching for a marshmallow out of the bag Vanya passed him. 

Five wasted no time in explaining what had happened the previous morning in the park. “...The Controller appeared, and if she can do that it means that the apocalypse is like Schrodinger's Cat. Because the future isn’t fixed.” 

"And what does that _actually_ mean? For us?" asked Diego.  

Five glanced over at Vanya and felt a little regret for how things would sound. "It means, it could still happen. We must make sure it doesn't. The longer we leave it, the more likely the old timeline could asset itself. Like...the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand."

Ben's eyes bugged. "Seriously?" 

"Seventh time lucky, right?" Five retorted flatly. "Turns out coming back here isn’t enough of a do-over."

“How...does that even work though?” Diego wondered, “Because we can make plans, but if you’re saying it’s going to happen anyway-”

“No, he’s saying there’s a chance. It’s not, like, a fact.” Klaus argued back, watching as Vanya squirmed uncomfortably, pulling the sleeves of her blue cardigan down over her hands.

Luther saw her too, and held up his hands, trying to bring some order back to the group. "I'm with you there, but what else can we do? We've been training Vanya to use her powers.”

She was quick to speak up. “Yeah, I’m better at controlling them now. I don’t actually want to crush everyone with the moon."

"But he’s saying that it isn't enough. How do we know it’s working?" Diego jabbed a finger at Five. "It sounds like we’re just sleepwalking our way to the apocalypse right now. I think we need a better guarantee than that, don’t you think?”

Five’s eyes turned hard. "It _remains_ a possibility. But it's not fixed and it's not unfixed-"

"Schrodinger's apocalypse." Vanya muttered to herself, and then looked at Allison as a creeping sense of hopelessness began to take over. “He’s not wrong. How are we supposed to stop it, if it’s _me_ every time?”

Five chucked the half-eaten bag of marshmallows at Diego’s head. "Look at us! We're still here. That's how. Besides, if time reverts back, then it means the Controller will probably turn up to kill us. Or, at least me. And probably personally, I'm too much of a threat to her if I can jump away."

Ben rolled his eyes. "Good to know." 

"Awesome." Allison seconded his sentiments, pulling her dressing tighter around her. 

“Alright, alright.” Luther interrupted the barbed comments aimed at Five’s arrogance. There was no point in letting things continue. "You're right, Diego. We need a plan. So... let’s start at the beginning. Vanya can train more. We all agreed that having better control of your powers is a good thing."

"Not just powers.” Diego said, “It’s your emotions too. Allison, what you did to Leonard, the concert hall...it was because you were angry or scared.” 

His words hit home and Vanya found it all too easy to remember the pouring rain dripping off her fingers and soaking into her skin. From the moment she had first bent the lamp posts towards her, it felt untameable. She had felt the rawness of her power in how it untethered itself from her body and smashed into the men beating Leonard in the car park. Even in the concert hall as her brothers and sister tried to stop her, the feeling of pure power sang in her every heartbeat, and it terrified her. 

“I lashed out. It was impulsive.” Vanya admitted, and the feeling of guilt that was never far away came creeping back. 

It was a little distraction when Five began to share his ideas. "I can try and work out the probabilities. If we know what the likely scenarios are, then we can steer her away from them. The Controller bragged that it would always be Vanya, but if I can narrow down the inciting points in the timeline then avoiding them becomes so much more easier."

"Like you did with Harold Jenkins? Your big plan was to kill the man whose eyeball you found." Klaus narrowed his eyes as a thought struck him. "But it’s not going to be him this time around. You don’t have a clue. Wait, wait." 

He turned to Vanya, "If it's emotions are stopping you from honing her powers, then wouldn't it be better to get away from the place that you hate? That actually makes you feel...terrible. Come on, you wrote a book about how awful the Umbrella Academy was!"

As quick as he was to push for an answer to the new problem Five had brought to them, Diego snapped back. "And where do you suggest she goes? I thought we were doing this together. We promised." 

"No. But-"

"But Vanya did that before, she left. Like you did, like Klaus did. The feelings don't go away. Yeah, we're supposed to fix this. Isn't that the point of all of us coming back? Otherwise you could have done this on your own, Five,” argued Ben. 

Five groaned and slid back out of the circle so that he could straighten out his cramping legs. "You know what, I'm starting to wonder if it would have been easier."

Diego lifted his drink, “That’s great, bro. So why are we even here?” 

“This is stupid.” Vanya muttered under her breath. “It’s not like I was thinking properly any of those times.”

Allison frowned, taking her words to heart. She leaned in closer to take her hand. “We were dangerous when we were younger, hell, I misused my powers as an adult. We’ve all made terrible mistakes. Even on missions. We killed people when we could have handed them over to the police. Made messes that I hate thinking about.”   

Deep in thought, Diego looked down at his hands, and then spoke quietly. “So... you’re just a sharper knife, you can make a bigger mess. But if you’re in control of your anger, your fear, your tiredness, then it should help, right?” 

There was quiet in the greenhouse, and Vanya opened her mouth and then closed it. The rain pelted down harder, and a crack of lightning illuminated the room for a second, throwing strange shapes onto the walls. The room was lit by a small bulb that hung from the socket and threw out less light than a normal lamp. In the corners, there were piles of shredded paper and leaves blown in from the open window that Allison or Luther must have been left unlatched the last time had snuck up there. 

“What do you think, Vanya?” Allison asked, “It’s a different kind of training.”

"Yeah, Vanya, what do you want to do?" Ben gave her arm a friendly squeeze. 

Vanya froze. She had never been asked about what she wanted, never had people listening and waiting on her answers. Not even in her past life. When the time came to leave the Academy, she hadn't talked to anyone, not even Allison or Pogo. Instead, she had packed a bag and hailed the next taxi that had driven down the street and got in. 

When the driver asked her where she wanted to go, she had only said, " _To the other side of the city,"_ because in that moment it was the furthest place she could think off. Afterwards, in her life outside of the Academy, her choices had been small, inconsequential things. Nothing like this, nothing big or potentially world-ending. 

The silence stretched on, the teenagers settled down into the quiet and waited patiently. Even Five nodded encouragingly at her. They were an odd pair to have gotten along in the house the first time around, he was always brash, and she had liked to listen to him talk about impossible things. She knew his ideas, his reaction to the apocalypse, weren’t coming from a bad place, it just meant they had to do more. Five wanted to try something different and he had called them together, even if he was still as flippantly sarcastic as ever. She had left the light on and made marshmallow sandwiches for years, hoping he’d come back; this was him trying his best. 

Vanya finally spoke, "It’s not going to be fun, is it?” 

“No, it won’t be.” Diego said grimly. 

"I'm game if she is. But we’ll start tomorrow.” Allison exchanged a knowing look. "And we'll figure it out." 

Five passed the marshmallows over to her with an awkward smile. “I'll have to get back to you on the math, but you might as well get your kicks while you can.” 


End file.
